A Wizards Life In Magical Academia (NO UPDATES)
by Proteus Wei
Summary: This tale is a group of children's quest for power, for love, for acceptance and a war far beyond their capabilities. Of monsters and demons, of wizards and witches and a corruption of the light as they battle against the ever present darkness. This is the tale of Harry James Potter and his eventful years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
1. Chapter 1

**The much anticipated fanfiction and one I've put a lot of work into (both writing and planning)**

 **SUMMARY: A Wizards Life in Magical Academia follows young Harry Potter through his eventful years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Featuring characters you may not know, places you've never seen and Dark Lords and Headmasters that may differ from the ones you are familiar from, in a magical world populated by wizards, witches and monsters alike.**

 **This will follow the story of Harry attending Hogwarts to the very first chapter of A Wiazrds Life With Monster Girls and I hope you enjoy the ride just as much as I know I will.**

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 **A Wizards Life In Magical Academia:**

 **Chapter 1**

A dark, lightless lighthouse, battered and barely standing, creaked and groaned the brutal winds and sheets of icy rain of the sudden summer storm brutally assaulting the coastline. Slamming into the nigh-dilapidated stone, already weary and worn from decades of abuse, and whistled through the gaps and howled against the glass.

Within the wet, weary walls was a family of four. A father, rotund and heavy with a thick mustache that gave the man the appearance of a walrus, a mother, a tall thin woman with high cheekbones and knife sharp features, a son, equally as spherical as his father with wispy blond locks and permanently pink cheeks and a nephew with a lightning bolt scar that cleaved a path down from his hairline to between his eyebrows.

The time rang as 11:58pm on Tuesday, July 30th 1991. The nephew was the only one awake, his sensitive ears barely able to differentiate the howling of the wind from combined snoring of his sleeping family (whose volume rivalled that of a trumpeting elephant). His finger dragged through years of untouched dirt and grime adding the final touches to a rough picture of a birthday cake.

'Happy Birthday Harry.' on its side and a trio of carefully sculpted candles atop the falsely frosted dust cake.

The nephew, Harry, sighed after processing the incredibly depressing idea that this was the closest he had ever gotten to a birthday cake; a dusty drawing on the floor of a dilapidated building.

The clock turned from 11:59 to 12 midnight, Harry officially turning 11 on the 31st of June. The single tear that escaped his jade eye at the thought of another empty, loveless birthday was thrown from his face when Harry jolted both backwards and upright. The chime of the clock, signifying the change in hour, had been muted by the higher volume of the vicious strikes on the lighthouse door.

'Outside in that storm… someone is knocking?' The truly incomprehensibility of reality caused him to ignore the frightened gibbering of Dudley off to the side, rudely awakened and quivering in fright. Harry's eyes did find the sudden brightness distracting enough to peak at, looking away from the door to see the light above them (the room that his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had chosen to sleep in) had been turned on and its occupants staggering out of it and down the stairs. Both individuals still in pajamas, nightcaps and slippers as his Uncle Vernon waddled into the center of the room. Holding a double-barreled shotgun to his blue and white pinstriped chest.

"W-W-Whoever you are!" Vernon's defiant tone a poor mask for his unfathomable terror, "I-I'M ARMED!"

The man brandished the firearm in question aggressively, as if the figure pounding on the lighthouse door could even see the gun he was toting through the doors thick wood.

The knocking stopped, abruptly and without warning. The quartet stared at the door in disbelief, all wondering if Vernon's stammered threat had actually worked. Vernon's mustache twitched as a shake ran through him, Petunia ran cold, clammy hands across her long neck and Dudley, the rotund copy of his own quivering father, hid in the corner furthest from the door. The young blonde's hands clasped over his crotch as he whimpered, fat hands there to cover a suspicious, dark stain.

The whistle and roar of the wind was all Harry could hear over the sound of his pounding heart, his bespectacled gaze (green eyes trapped behind large circular glasses) never left the door.

"T-That's right… THAT'S RIGHT!" Vernon's volume increasing as his confidence ballooned, "Take your freakishness somewhere else you-"

WHAM! His sentence cut short as the door was smacked off of its hinges, the Dursley's and young Harry screaming in fright as it flew onto the dusty floor and a figure (a silhouette, black and mighty against the stormy backdrop) was framed in the doorway by the lightning and moonlight of the stormy evening. The figure seemed to pause and take in the terrified family he had stumbled upon before crossing the threshold out of the rain.

Harry's terror fell away to astonishment as the man came into frame, the light from within falling upon his gigantic frame to reveal that the knocker was a huge man. A man who had had to fold himself down towards his ankles to shuffle through the doorway. Straightening out on the other side he easily stood at over ten feet tall, the top of his head (where a waist length mane of onyx hair began the long journey down his shoulders and back) almost brushed the rickety wooden landing that Petunia and Vernon had run down from to reach the ground floor. The man's face was dominated by a thick, bushy black beard that matched in colour his equally dark eyes, said eyes like fat beetles that flicked from one of them to the next in observation. But Harry took this in and still found himself bafflingly, flabbergasted by the man's ridiculous size, his height and sizeable girth covered from head to toe by a humongous coat that looked to be made up of the pelts of many small animals and littered with pocket after pocket. Just as black as his eyes and hair and equally soaked with rain water, it dripped onto the dusty floor as it hung off of his shoulders and covered him up to his black booted ankles.

"S'freezing out there." The mountain of a man spoke up after a too long period of shivering silence, the man taking a step forward (ignoring the many steps back of the Dursley family in response) and scooped the door off of the floor in a single, massive hand. Harry watched in fascination as he turned to the empty doorway with the item in question and reached into one of his many pockets as he strode, stunning the boy in further wonder when he yanked a fluorescent pink umbrella from a pocket that couldn't have possibly housed it. With a quiet grunt and shove, the door was pushed and maneuvered back into its original place and then tapped a single time with the metal tip of the umbrella. A flash of light and pleasant hum reaching the occupants as the door was fixed and the man turned back to look upon them once more, "Now, which o yeh is young Harry?"

Words escaped Harry, but questions burned through his mind regardless,

'Who is this man? And what does he want with me?'

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The building of Gringotts Wizarding Bank reminded Harry of something out a dream, then again, so did the entirety of Diagon Alley. The alley itself was a cobbled street, bustling and alive with shops and buildings on either side arching up and out of sight. Men and women in robes and costumes of every conceivable colour marched and shoved back and forth.

Harry's nose was assaulted from all sides by scents both fascinating and foul, his eyes caught by sights so unusual and wonderous that the boy felt ashamed for looking away and his ears assaulted by noises (voices, animal cries, even explosions and cracks of air). Harry transitioned sharply from awestruck observation to fearful, oversensitised cringing. The magical world, hidden in plain sight from the 'muggles' was wondrous and noisy and Harry was having trouble taking it all in as he retreated slightly within himself.

[FLASH]

" _Yer a wizard, Harry." Hagrid had declared, one knee pressed down heavily on the dusty ground in front of Harry. The boy's eyes unblinking as he beheld the friendly gaze of the man who had tied Vernon's shotgun into a not and lit a roaring fire in the fireplace with a jab of his umbrella,_

" _I-I'm a what?!" Harry hissed in incredulity, certain he'd misheard the man,_

" _A wizard. Jus like yer mum and dad." Hagrid declared once more with a beaming smile, ignoring the flinch of the tiny boy as he reached forth and placed a gentle hand on his tiny shoulders, "Yeh can do magic, jus like me and they could."_

 _Harry's body shook from more than just the frightful cold of the evening as he stepped out of Hagrid's grasp,_

" _Magic isn't real." A lie, spoke in a conditioned monotone by the boy who had been told this all his life by the man and woman watching the pair interact with equal measures of fear and hate._

" _It bloody well is." Hagrid almost bellowed in his affronted tone, gesturing a hand around the room with such speed and force that Harry was wafted with displaced dust and air, "Whaddaya think this is? How would I ave been able to do all a this then."_

 _Fire out of the end of an umbrella, said umbrella comfortably housed in a coat pocket, the simple fact that man this tall could even exist. Harry may only have been eleven years of age, but he was not a complete dunce. These seemed way too impossible._

" _YOU TOLD ME THEY DIED IN A CAR CRASH!"_

" _A car crash kill James and Lily Potter, ridiculous!" Hagrid seemed to share Harry's rage at the muggle family, flinching away once again. Breathing even heavier as Hagrid turned his attention to Harry once again with a gentle expression, "Harry, yer mum and dad are alive."_

[FLASH]

The building made of immaculate white marble, almost an eyesore under the bright, warm sunlight and whilst surrounded by the dourer décor of the rest of the street. Columns and steps inlaid with gold displayed the entrance, looking more like the stairs to the pearly gates rather than to bank run by cut throat, sharp toothed, three-foot tall goblins with an unhealthy obsession with gold. Those words had been spoken by the bartender of the Leaky Cauldron Tom not five minutes ago, Harry didn't think they were particularly pleasant so decided he would not be repeating them.

"Come 'long then" Came the genial, booming voice of the man shaped mountain who had announced himself as Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry the night before. Hagrid striding up those very steps that Harry had been admiring and leaving him to scurry after. His eyes flicking around nervously the higher they ascended.

When at the huge, dark doors, Harry ignored the large golden plague above them as well as the intricate designs that were painstakingly etched into the stone surface, instead focussing on the armed, armoured sentries on each side. Dressed in armour Harry found reminiscent to Ancient Romans from history at school and holding large shields. Swords were sheathed at their hips and the entry on the lefts hand twitched around the hilt. Although they stood shorter than Harry's slight frame, he was intimidated all the same as their black eyes followed their approach and their lips both twisted into an ugly sneer. Harry shuddered and kept walking, refusing to look at them even as he felt their gaze on him.

The interior was illuminated in golden light by a multitude of hanging chandeliers. An immaculate white tiled floor lay beneath Harry's feet that his rubber soled shoes squeaked against with every step, causing Harry to blush in the quietness of the room. Little sound being made other that it, the soft scribble and scratch of writing and whispered conversations between men, women and the hooked nosed goblins themselves; the goblins sat atop high seats in three piece suits, mot wearing small pairs of circular glasses similar to his own. Desks separating them from the wizards and witches they were looking down upon, an air of distain and forced professionalism hanging over each one Harry's emerald eyes fell upon.

[FLASH]

" _W-What?" Harry could only spit the single world in incredulity,_

" _I know it's hard to 'ere, but you aren't alone. Yer mum and dad are alive." Hagrid calmly and kindly intoned_

" _Clever Lily I think. She was always mighty smart. Hiding you with muggles, the las place anyone'll think to look for yeh."_

" _We'll be hearing no more of this!" Petunia roared, statement accentuated by a stomped foot. She stood at her full height before shrinking back in fear under the coal black gaze of the half-giant, "Sh-She abandoned him here. There was noting 'clever' about it!"_

" _You freaks have poisoned this family more than enough." Vernon continued without a trace of his wife's trepidation, "And I will not stand for any more of it!"_

" _Don't be testin me ere today, Dursley." He ordered lowly, making a shiver run the length of all of their spines._

" _Are you… telling the truth?" Harry's voice was quiet. Small and meek and hopeful despite how ridiculous he felt to be asking the question, if he were telling the truth he would just be repeating himself, and if he were lying of course he would state it again._

 _This man had an interest in him, whether it was malicious or benevolent Harry would not know until he made a descision:_

 _Would he trust the man with the warm smile? Or would he brush off the giant who had chased his family down?_

[FLASH]

Hagrid, straightened his thick black coat and marched towards the only free desk. The goblin behind it, as Harry approached, was called Griphook (by the name tag on his lapel) and he sighed in resignation as he watched their approach,

"Mornin' Master Teller." Hagrid said, his tone both cheerful and nervous. He tugged at his shaggy beard as his greeting hung in the air for a few seconds,

"Good day." Griphook said curtly as he straightened his glasses, "What business do you have?"

"Erm, well I'm 'ere escorting a firs' year on 'is shoppin'" Hagrid stated, jabbing a thumb down at Harry, causing said goblin to make a big show of leaning forward to get a better look at him.

"Who is this… urchin." He addressed him, looking Harry up and down with his beady, coal black eyes and making it no secret that he did not like what he saw,

Harry silently bristled. His emotionless mask not falling despite his stomach twisting in quiet irritation.

"M-My name is Harry Potter." He declared, his anger at the assessment doing wonders in alleviating his initial fear, "I do say, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Master Griphook."

"False platitudes will get you nowhere, Mister Potter."

"Then how about brutal honesty? You hook nosed git. Don't judge me, when you obviously fell in the kitchen one day and landed on that butchers knife you call a nose."

The bank was silent, nobody could believe that that mere slip of a child, dressed in clothes several sizes too big, would dare to insult a goblin so freely in his own territory whilst surrounded by his comrades. The goblin in question, Griphook, seemed appropriately affronted,

"I would watch your tongue whilst in this establishment, child." he hissed with a glittering, murderous gaze,

"Or what? You gonna cut it out with that monstrosity you have on your face there? Knife nose." Harry growled, confusion and other swirling emotions finding the perfect outlet in this rude, stubbly creature.

"'Arry! Stop!" Hagrid hissed, looking to Griphook with a nervous, placating smile, "Sorry, e's been raised by Muggles and doesn't really know what to do..."

Griphook was quiet for a second as he leaned back,

"No bother, I did start it. I apologise for the slight Mister Potter." Griphook said, though not seeming remotely apologetic,

"And I apologise too, for my comments." Harry responded, he too not entirely sorry. He could sense something from Griphook, something akin to... amusement?

"Do you have Mister Potter's key?" Griphook asked in a voice like gravel,

"Erm, right 'ere." Hagrid declared before rifling through his many pockets. Harry suppressed a sigh, Hagrid seemed nice enough, though a bit airheaded.

After two solid minutes, Hagrid produced a small, golden key. Passing it to Griphook almost reverently for the goblin to examine. He then smiled down at Harry who was curious, he had been worried about how he was going to afford the things on his school list but Hagrid had said not to worry. Harry wondered if someone, likely/hopefully his parents, had left him money for his school after all.

His parents. Harry didn't quite know how he was supposed to address the mess of complicated feelings he had regarding them now. He had spent his entire life KNOWING that his mother and father had died in a drunken car crash, the same crash that gave him the vicious, lightning shaped scar on his forehead. He had grown up KNOWING that his parents were arrogant lay-abouts, with his father being a drunk to top it off. And he grew up KNOWING that even his own parents hadn't wanted him. But those 'facts' had been decimated by the arrival of the half-giant Hagrid the previous evening as they (being the Dursley's and himself) shivered in the lighthouse escaping the torrent of owls and letters.

His parents were alive! They hadn't died in a car crash but had left him with the Dursley's, after he miraculously destroyed an evil serial killer hell bent on taking over the world. Harry tried not to think about it. He wasn't ready to deal with the over load of information he had received (which included, but was not quite limited to, his apparent fame).

"I apologise." Griphook cut into his thoughts with an air of smugness, "I'm afraid that this account was closed by the account holder."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion whilst Hagrid's eyes widened in shock,

"B-But the account 'older is righ' 'ere and he hasn't stepped foot in Gringotts before today!" Hagrid almost roared, jabbing a thumb at Harry who was confused,

"The account holder, Mr…" Griphook began,

"Hagrid. Rubeus Hargid."

"Well, Mister Hagrid. The account holder is not young Mister Potter. But his parents James and Lily Potter. Who on a visit on the 18th of September 1989, had the trust fund of one Harry James Potter closed with immediate effect." Griphook declared, reading off a sheet of parchment without a shred of amusement or smugness, "I'm sorry to say, but this key is now quite useless."

Griphook handed it back and Hagrid received it wordlessly. His mouth opening and closing like a fish as he evidently had no words. So, Harry chose to speak in his stead,

"How am I supposed to get my supplies now?" Harry asked carefully, his heart hammering in his head as he spoke. The pace quickening as he saw the goblin smile toothily, shark-like fangs on display for the eleven-year-old to behold,

"Well, as with most muggleborns or half-bloods hailing from the muggle world, we offer a student loan. We offer competitive interest rates and you won't have to make any repayments until you finish your education." Griphook stated, he smirked monstrously despite his business-like tone.

Harry paused as a parchment leaflet was shoved towards him and he was urged to read it. Relying heavily on context cues to ascertain the meaning of some of the jargon present, but Harry was able to get the general gist of what was written. Before his blood had ran cold, now it pounded in his ears and roared through his veins like fire,

"So, if I want to go to Hogwarts, I have to take out a loan with you guys. And then I'll be spending the rest of my life giving you half of whatever I earn?!" Harry growled darkly, attention being drawn to him once again. The goblin Griphook's amusement seemed to blossom further as he leaned forward onto his elbolws and peered down his long nose at the boy several times his junior,

"As I said, competitive interest." Griphook replied with glee, "Other branches would have just taken everything until the debt is settled, even going so far as to charge your descendants also until the debt is repaid. Now, although we here at Gringotts London do not practice the former we do partake in the latter."

Griphook was about to ask the wizarding youth if he had any questions but was given pause at the boys state. Not because of his confrontational stance or the glare of his Killing Curse green eyes, but rather the oppressive. A vicious, vengeful pressure that made breathing more difficult that Harry stood at the epicenter of. Harry ignored the various sentries and guards turning to him cautiously, hands on weapons in preparation for a confrontation. His attention was firmly on the goblin before him, who wasn't smiling anymore, as he answered the unspoken question with,

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

Griphook gulped and held back the fear in his body as the tiles beneath the young wizard's feet cracked audibly, the power leaking from the child monstrous and primal. Griphook very much feared for his life.

"Mister Potter, I-I understand that you are distressed. But please be calm." Griphook tried, but winced as the child's eyes narrowed murderously. His blood ran cold when he saw colour in the boy's eyes change from a warm inviting emerald to the familiar, piercing jade of the Killing Curse,

'Perhaps it would be for the best that a beast like this NOT learn magic at all.' He thought as he found it hard to draw breath under the angry weight of the boy's prepubescent magic. He would evidently grow to be the one of the strongest of his peers, Griphook didn't know a wizard could possess such dense and potent magic (let alone at such a young age).

"I understand that this situation may not be ideal, but if you follow me we can have a word with the loan department and come up with a more beneficial deal." Griphook said with a grimace. Flinching when the leaflet he had passed to the child was hurled into his face with a terrifying growl of,

"Screw you."

The boy marched out of the bank, leaving dozens of stunned onlookers. Including a nervous half-giant (who quickly rushed after him) and a goblin, breathing heavily as he clocked out for a break and thanked the gods he was still alive.

"'Arry!" The booming tone of the gigantic man was peppered with heavy gasps as he strode after the rapidly retreating child, "There ain't any other wizardin' banks in the country. I know that you ain't 'appy but you need to-"

"I don't NEED to do anything other than figure out how I'm going to make the money I need to get my things." Harry growled. Silencing Hagrid with his rage and intensity, the man failing to understand how someone so small could be so angry. Harry turned his eyes to him and Hagrid flinched at their Killing Curse green, "You said the train leaves on the 5th, correct?"

Hagrid nodded mutely and Harry sighed.

"Can I have the letter and the vault key, please." He said, adding please as an after-thought in a much more subdued tone. The pressure of his enraged magic beginning to rapidly dissipate as Hagrid handed over the items and Harry stuffed them all into the oversized pockets of Dudley's hand-me-downs, "Thank you for bringing me here and for helping me. I'll take it from here."

And Harry marched down the steps and, before Hagrid could even articulate his desire for the boy to stop, he disappeared into the crowd…

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 **As a bit of maintenance, thank you for your patience regarding A Wizards Life With Monster Girls (both its slow updates and the rewrite) and thank you all of those who voted. The first chapter is in the works and (for those of you who liked this one) the second chapter for this story is half done on my word document. As the first chapter focuses heavily on one of the voted for girls, I have to wait until the votes are concluded.**

 **As such, I will leave votes open for another week before writing the next chapter (thus I will not be looking at them from beyond the 10th March 2018)**

 **Thank you very much for reading, your support and viewership is appreciated and it really makes my day and motivates me to keep writing. So thank you x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! Thank you for tuning in once again and for the positive feedback for the previous chapter x**

 **Chosen-One-92: Thank you once again x**

 **To answer your question I'm not really planning on making this particularly short (I don't really factor in the story length I just have a set few things that NEED to be done in each chapter and I write until they are done). The choice I've made for this story is that anything that is in the original books (and the average reader already knows) will be approached like that with minimal focus on it.**

 **DRAGONDAVE45: Yup. You'll have to wait and see for the in-story reason (though I wouldn't call them 'hateful') but ultimately I did it because it suits the story and will be good for all the characters involved. I understand that you take issue with it, but at least going forward you are aware of how it's going to be.**

 **Spartan3909: No problem glad you enjoyed it x**

 **On with chapter 2!**

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 **A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:**

 **Chapter 2**

Diagon Alley was still the same noisy, bustling, colourful location that it had been the previous summer when Harry had stumbled awestruck down it for the first time. Now it was 1992, he was a twelve-year-old Hogwarts student, and he had a paycheck to cash in.

A year ago, every sight and sound would have drawn his attention, the sheer volume of jabbering men, women and children would have nearly induced a panic attack in the way too used to quiet, child wizard. But now he was slightly more comfortable in this strange environment, the latest racing broom being advertised in volume over at the Nimbus store did not give him pause and pushing through the crowd of occasionally staring individuals bothered him just that bit less a year later. Helping him reach the dark doors of the marble bank with only the slightest of increase to his heart rate.

He was over 365 days deep and was only slightly wiser to the new world he had been thrust into, and of his incredible birthright. But, internally, he was moderately satisfied with the way he had adapted to the new scenario, even if it had been wrought with difficulty.

[FLASH]

 _He couldn't breathe, he was seeing red. The calmness that had made him ask for the letter and vault key from Hagrid had dissipated after a few steps through the crowd. The noises and sounds he had found fascinating before were merely white noise, grating at him instead of turning his head. And all his eyes could see was people and an unfamiliar location. He was a long way from home._

 _Harry stopped walking with a bitter scoff, his eyes war with shimmering, unshed tears. It was painful and bitterly hilarious that here and now he missed Privet Drive and his filthy cupboard under the stairs. At least he wasn't alone there, his life made sense there._

 _He started in horror as thoughts, unbidden and unruly ruined any composure he had held._

' _Forget my school things, I have no money. Where am I going to stay? What am I going to eat?' his head hurt as his mind whirled. He was in London, he wasn't a good geography student but he knew it was a long walk back to Surrey. Not like that was an option, even if the Dursley's had returned to Privet Drive, there was no way they would take him back in now._

 _He was well and truly alone..._

 _SMACK! A strike to the side sent him stumbling aside as he returned to the here and now. Harry's arm and ribs ached from the strike and he glared up at the culprit, a man with long blonde hair rippling down his back. He towered above Harry in elegant black and silver robes with buttons, clasps and other accessories that glittered in the light, cold blue eyes regarding him with a disdain one would level against refuse or insects, manicured hands grasping the black and silver cane Harry assumed he had been hit with,_

" _Move aside you urchin, this is a public walkway." He spat in a high, aristocratic tone. Nose quickly turned up as he continued striding, the click of his shoes heard over the other noise. Behind him scampered a boy, likely the same age as Harry (judging from his size and overall look). He offered a scathing smirk as he ran a hand through his gelled back hair, scampering by in robes just as fancy as his fathers._

" _Are you ok, young man?" came a worried voice from the side and Harry turned with a start when a hand appeared on his shoulder. The hand belonging to a man, likely in his early to mid thirties, crouching down before him. He threw up his hands as a placating gesture at Harry's surprised (more accurately fearful) expression, "Peace. I'm not here to harm you."_

 _Harry took him in as he worked to get his breath under control. He had a black hair that fell shaggily to his shoulders, a short, matching beard that looked far better maintained and bright warm eyes of the same colour. His skin was olive and a gentle, easy smile split his face. He was dressed in a brown waistcoat over a lighter shaded shirt, with black trousers and smart, lace less shoes._

" _I saw that." The man stated with a vicious glare after the cane toting man that was striding away, "Malfoy is a piece of work. Are you alright?"_

 _Harry took in a testing breath and winced at the ache from his ribs,_

" _I'll manage." He muttered, rubbing the area soothingly, "Thanks for the concern."_

 _There was a pause before the man spoke again,_

" _Your clothes, you're from the muggle world aren't you?"_

" _Erm, yeah. I didn't know about magic until recently." Harry said slowly, his hands subconsciously tugging at his one size too big hoodie and wiggling his toes in his too small trainers. He heard a mutter of 'muggleborn' with his sharp ears and narrowed his eyes suspiciously,_

" _Then, are you not here with a professor?" The man seemed almost worried in his inquiry,_

" _I… decided to do things by myself."_

" _That's not very clever."_

" _Well, it's my stupid decision to make. Besides, I got some bad news and they can't help me anymore anyway." Harry sighed, unknowingly worrying the kindly gentleman even further. He caught his concerned expression transition into a pondering one and even saw the bright light of an idea turn on behind his eyes,_

" _Well, do you know what cheers me up after bad news?" The boy shook his head and was fascinated by the sun bright smile that appeared on the man's face, "A big old bowl of ice cream!"_

" _I… I've never had ice cream before." Harry stammered out. Wincing at the reveal and the pathetic voice he had spoken it in._

" _Th-That… IS UNFORGIVABLE!" Harry recoiled as the man rocketed to his feet and thrust his hand towards him, "With me, young man. I, Florean Fortescue cannot allow such a thing to pass."_

 _Afraid, confused and still reeling from the long day he had had, Harry stood frozen. Yelping but doing little to resist when his hand was gently taken and he was pulled along enthusiastically. Fortunately not taken far, pulled into what Harry quickly caught was an ice cream parlour sharing a name with the man who was dragging him along._

 _He was situated in a small glass table in the far corner, away from the windows the bulk of the hustling and bustling customers who strode in and out with hands full of different coloured iced treats, different toppings atop each and every one. Harry's distracted staring was brief, the clunk of glass on glass bringing him back to reality as something was placed before him. The ice cream sundae sat in an ornate glass with a long thin stem. Within sat two generous scoops of chocolate ice cream with a third, larger scoop of vanilla sat atop them, smothered in sticky chocolate sauce,_

" _Here, something nice and safe to start you off." Florean Fortescue cheerfully stated as he pushed it and a silver tablespoon Harry's way with a bright smile, nodding his head towards the dessert eagerly as Harry stared at him and it dumbfounded,_

" _I can't pay for this…"_

" _It's on me, young man." Florean insisted brightly, though he silently factored away that information as something of concern, "I cannot stand by knowing that a child hasn't known the joy that is ice cream. It's why I opened this store in the first place. Did you know there wasn't an ice cream sold in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade before I came along? Outrageous I say!"_

 _The man continued to speak and Harry desperately tried to pay attention, but he was frightfully overwhelmed at the gesture. Before him sat ice cream. The very thing that Dudley constantly screeched for at all times of the year and then flaunted at him in the knowledge that he wasn't allowed it. And this gentleman was just giving it to him. HIM. The freak of Privet Drive, whose own parents didn't even want him. Harry was afraid to even blink, worried that this dream of his (the dream that bordered so heavily on a nightmare) would end at any second and he'd awaken trapped in the cupboard once again._

" _Hey buddy." Florean supplied gently, pulling Harry softly into the present with his soft gaze and tone. Having noticed the boy's fixed stare on the treat and struggling to soothe the pain in his heart at the child's hopeful yet lost expression, "Even with the charms, that doesn't stay cold forever. Take a bite."_

 _His smile was gentle, imploring and honest, forcing Harry to acquiesce in its sincerity. Picking up the spoon he gently scooped away a small sample of the sundae before him. The sticky chocolate sauce forming a thin link between Harry's spoon and the dessert as he pulled it away and placed the sauce laden ice cream into his mouth._

 _Tears fell hot and heavy as the taste exploded against his tongue, Harry (ironically) freezing in place as his tongue was assaulted by the sweetness of the frozen treat._

" _W-What's the matter? Do you not like vanilla? We can try something else." Florean was worried further as the boy dropped the spoon to the table and buried his face into his hands after only a single, miniscule spoonful. Sobs, wet and ugly, wracking through the eleven-year-old on the other side of the table,_

" _T-T-T-T-T-" The boy in question struggled to spit out his words as he heaved and shook, "T-Thank you so much. I love it."_

 _Florean Fortescue would have loved to chalk the reaction down to his product being simply so amazing that the child had been moved to tears. Or that it was an over exaggeration for some nefarious or tricky reason. But he could not shake what he believed to be the only legitimate and logical conclusion,_

' _You poor child.' He thought morosely, daring not to think about what the boy had suffered that the simple act of giving him ice cream had hurled him into a fit of sobs._

" _M-Mr Fortescue?" the man in question looked on curiously as the child spoke to him,_

" _What is it, young man?"_

" _I… I don't have anywhere to go, my family hates me and don't want me around-"_

" _Say no more!" He jumped to his feet in enthusiasm, missing the violent flinch of fear from the boy in question, "I have a spare bedroom above the shop, you'll have three meals a day and all the ice cream you can eat."_

" _N-NO!" Harry was able to stammer out in defiance, causing Florean to flinch himself then stare down at the boy in confusion. His bravado leaving him as he near deflated,_

" _Huh?"_

" _I- I'm not looking for charity. You are a very nice man and I don't want to just take advantage of a really kind stranger." Harry spoke up, confidence seeming to grow as he spoke, though his eyes were firmly placed onto the table before him, "I can cook, clean and if you show me something once I won't forget it. No matter how complicated or how different. So, please…"_

 _Harry's fists clenched as he looked up into Florean's confused gaze, eyes bright and determined behind his thick circular glasses,_

" _Can you please give me a job?"_

[FLASH]

"Have a good day, young master Potter!" came a tone both joking and sincere to Harry's retreating back, originating from the friendly, middle-aged voice from the backdoor of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Harry chuckled and turned back to the man with a bright smile and wave,

"See you tomorrow, Mr Fortescue!" he called cheerily before turning back to Gringott's bank and trotting towards it.

Once inside the cool interior, Harry slipped into a long, familiar line with a thick envelope in hand and a small spell book in the other. He peaked around the thin frame of a black robed witch in front of him to assess the length of the line before burying his head in the book and shuffling forwards when appropriate.

[FLASH]

" _A-A job? You're eleven!"_

" _I-I know I'm young. But I don't have any money, I need to be able to eat and pay for my school things."_

" _What about your parents? You're a Potter, you must have a trust fund, no?" FLorean regretted that incredulous question when the boys gaze dropped, nostrils flaring. He muttered something but he did not hear, thus he asked for him to repeat it,_

" _I said they closed it."_

" _What?! Why?"_

" _I don't know."_

" _Well did you do something to... annoy them?" Florean asked, though he struggled to comprehend how big a slight the boy would have had to commit, or how petty his parents would have to be, to cut their child off financially, "I am certain that if you just spoke everything out with your mother and father then-"_

" _I thought they were dead until last night." Harry interrupted icily, freezing Fortescue's words in his mouth and forcing him to articulate a,_

" _W-Wha?"_

" _I grew up with muggle relatives that hated me. They don't like things that aren't '_ normal _' and I guess they hated me because I was a wizard. They told me that my mum and dad had died in a car crash and that magic didn't exist." Harry explained in a small voice, eyes on the table again as he evidently relived something he didn't want to, "It wasn't until Hagrid came to get me yesterday that I found out that I was a wizard and that my parents were alive. Then we went to Gringotts and…"_

 _Florean fell back into his seat like a string cut marionette, he was tired just from hearing the mess that had been the boys day. He could not imagine living through a roller coaster._

" _A-And you can't go back to your relatives?"_

" _I don't know what they'll do to me if I go home." His voice shook and Florean winced, trying to ignore the white hot anger roiling in his stomach at the thought of people existing who would treat a child so poorly._

 _He wanted to protect this child, he was evidently damaged and alone. But the boys determined statement before highlighted some kind of stubbornness that made him fear that he would not accept assistance in the way he was offering. So, a bullet was bitten,_

" _Finish your ice cream and we'll go into the back and talk about how the job will work and what you'll be getting out of it."_

 _The wide-eyed smile of relief and gratitude simultaneously warmed Florean Fortescue's heart and broke it all the same._

[FLASH]

"Good afternoon little money maker." Came an airy, elderly voice from behind him an unknown time later. He started but turned with a polite smile to the familiar voice,

"Good afternoon, Mr Ollivander." Harry greeted the wild, white haired, aging wandmaker who smiled with eyes that pierced through the child before him, "What brings you here today?"

"I am settling some outstanding business with my shop." Ollivander spoke with a sagely smile and an unblinking gaze, "How has your wand been serving you?"

Harry's polite smile was interrupted as he tried to block a tired sigh, a heavy sense of déjà vu ripping through him at the conversation topic,

"As it is summer, I haven't been using it Mr Ollivander. But it served me well throughout my first year and I expect it to continue to." Harry responded in a polite agreeable tone, a smile curling his features, "I look forward to using it when I get back to school."

Ollivander's smile matched his own and his eyes drifted away, interest lost. Harry hoped he missed the sigh and relief filled sag of his shoulders when he turned around, the entertaining of the man for who knows how long now tiring Harry out. Harry was unsure if he didn't really care or just had some difficulty with human interaction (whether that be a byproduct of its twilight years or a feature he had dealt with his entire life) but that same exchange was nigh identical to every other conversation he had had with the wandmaker ever since he had purchased his wand from him the year before,

 _'Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere…'_

Harry's hand grasped said 'perfect match' on his hip before casting its maker a glance over his shoulder. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches long. A sense of warmth, safety and belonging to this crazy and wonderful world of magic enveloped his body whenever he held it in his hand.

"Mr Potter, are you still considering working during your months at school?" Ollivander's voice abruptly interrupted his reading as the line shuffled ever closer to the bank clerk's raised table, Harry turning in surprise to the man who had addressed him,

"Erm, yes sir, I am. I got permission from my head of house and school even provided me with a Portkey for the year." Harry responded genially (cautiousness hiding behind that tone),

"I see... Then would you be willing to do an old man a favour and come work for me?" Ollivander croaked cheerfully, those piercing eyes taking in Harry's look of surprise, "Only on the Mondays and Wednesdays, they are surprisingly busy during school time and my weary bones can't handle them without help for much longer."

After a bout of surprised speechlessness, Harry hummed in thought, mentally reviewed his upcoming timetable. Monday's and Wednesday's he had his mornings dedicated to the paper round and he only worked at Fortecue's on the weekends.

"Can I ask about pay?" Ollivander's eyebrow quirked at the question and the corner of Harry's lip raised slightly, "I would be coming all the way from Scotland every evening, I need to know that it is worth my while."

Ollivander's face morphed into a pleased smile and nodded,

"I can offer you 5 galleons an hour, any assistance you may require with homework and projects and will even throw in some tutelage in basic wand crafting." Ollivander supplied with a bright smile and genial tone. The man ignorant to the surprise on the boy's face and the dozens who had turned to look their way in complete disbelief,

"Th… That's incredibly generous." Harry was able to stutter out his incredible understatement, emphasizing with the silent 'no duh' of the people around him who were rudely, eavesdropping in, "But, not to sound rude or ungrateful, but why on earth do you wish to employ me?"

"Besides the glowing recommendations from Florean and Bonnibel about your incredible work ethic?" Ollivander posed with a grandiose swish of his hands, Harry blushed in response. He had heard Florean brag about how he had very hardworking staff very often whilst serving, but was truly surprised to hear that Madam Malkin had said anything similar. The squat witch very tight lipped regarding any kind of encouragement or praise and quite the task master. The effect of both of his bosses speaking of him positively to the world renowned wand maker both flattering and embarrassing, "It is very simple why I want you in my employ really my boy. Your wand."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he lurched back slightly as Ollivander bent forward to look him in the eye, voice lowered to just above a whisper,

"As I told you before, the wielder of your wands brother was capable of both great and terrible things. As, I believe, are you." Ollivander spoke, any distant gaze or jovial tone had dripped away to leave only hard, cold determination in his serious tone, "I outfitted that man with the tool he needed to devastate hundreds of lives. Forgive me, but I wish to ensure that you do not follow in his footsteps in any capacity."

Harry had no words as Ollivander pulled away, his own gaze dropping to the marble ground whilst the wand maker's eyes never left him.

"Next!" came the gruff order of the bank clerk and Harry numbly handed over his cheque and asked for the balance of his vault alongside cashing it in. He felt almost ill, Ollivander was afraid he'd turn out like Voldemort? Why? Their wands may share a core but he wasn't a psychopath. From the very limited knowledge he had of the Dark Lord that had terrorised the nation only eleven years previously, he could not find a single common trait between them.

"Mr Ollivander." He said firmly as he took the parchment from the goblin with a soft piece of gratitude, "I can assure you, you have nothing to fear, but I will gladly take you up on your offer all the same."

The wizened wizard looked him up and down as he approached the desk as ordered and placed a stack of papers before the goblins hooked nose and irritated eyes.

"That is yet to be seen, but know that I have the utmost faith in you, young Master Potter. I truly do expect great things from you." He spoke with a warm, proud grin and even went so far as to ruffle Harry's notoriously scruffy raven locks, "I will be expecting you at my shop on the first Wednesday of term at six pm. Put it in your calendar and do not be late."

Harry bobbed his head and thanked the man with a smile before scurrying away to the door,

"And, Mr Potter!" Ollivander called after him once more, the boy turning just before he reached the doorway and locking eyes with him over that distance, "Do be prepared for a lot of hard work."

Harry grinned before exiting out into the sun.

* * *

.

* * *

Flourish and Blotts the next day was rammed and Harry felt nothing but regret at putting off the purchase of his books so late,

"You just HAD to get that wand holster." He muttered darkly under his breath as he pushed past a pair of gossiping, middle aged women, both fawning over a poster of the man who was the source of his current misery, "Forget Voldemort. I'm killing this Lockheart bloke next time I see him."

Harry, having carefully managed his funds, had brought an expensive wand holster after nearly losing and damaging his wand in a few rather dangerous incidents during his first year at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, in order to pay for his room at the Leaky Cauldron, purchase a new cauldron and ensure that he would still have meals for the next few days, he had had to put off the purchase of his school books until this very day at the earliest. Which just so happened to be the day that famous wizard (and apparent heart throb) Gilderoy Lockhart had deigned the bookstore with his presence for a book signing. Several of which were on the parchment list of essentials for his next year at school. Said books on display at the front of the store where the majority of the screaming women and girls were congregated, thus where he would be avoiding at all costs.

He slipped into the historical section on the shops left side in hunt for a few textbooks on the Goblin rebellions and was stunned to find,

"Ron?" rifling through a series of manuscripts in the nearby potions and alchemy section.

"Ahh!" The thin red headed best friend of Harry screamed in shock and dropped the small stack he had gathered in a messy pile on the floor, "Bloody hell, Harry. Don't just appear out of nowhere like that."

"Nice to see you too, idiot." Harry sniffed with a faux pout as he approached, swinging his heaving basket with a warm smile growing onto his face as he strode over. Ron throwing a one-armed hug over the slightly shorter boy with a fat grin on his own face, the two slapping one another's backs in greeting,

"I'm surprised you're here today. Cutting it a bit fine to get your supplies." Harry jokingly said, indirectly indicating the late August date,

"Yeah, but this was the only time that Dad could get off work. It's Ginny's first year this year,"

"Ginny's your sister, right?"  
"Yeah, mum and dad wanted to take her, and I guess us as well, together to get our stuff." Ron shrugged as he quickly bent down to scoop up his dropped manuscripts, "Something about ' _the last of my babies leaving the house_ ' or something. I don't know, mum was pretty hysterical over breakfast."

Harry nodded before quirking an eyebrow at the glimpse he got of the cover. The leather bound sheets of A4 parchment having a very familiar name emblazoned in gold on the cover,

"Why have you got something by Nicholas Flammel in your hands?" Harry asked, curiosity only increasing at Ron's reddening ears and evasive eyes. The blush on his ears eventually travelling to his freckled cheeks and his pale fingers clutching the stack in his arms tightly to his chest, "Ron?"

"I… I need you to not judge me and keep it a secret. Alright?" Ron's brown eyes found his in an imploring, desperate stare that further stoked Harry's curiosity and froze him in place. Harry nodded his acquiescence and encouragement to continue just prior to,

"HARRY!" being shouted into his ear and a warm mass barrelling into his side and encircling him in their arms. Harry was on the ground in seconds with a squeak, the feminine voice that called his name wincing and apologising profusely as she released him from the warm tackle-hug.

"Nice to see you too, Hermione." Harry grunted with a wince as he sat up, eyes finding the bushy, brown haired female he also called his best friend. Her own brown eyes concerned and apologetic as she knelt before him,

"I'm sorry, that was inappropriate." She murmured as she helped him to his feet. Smiling herself as Harry smiled at her and waved her off,

"She didn't run up on ME like that mate, I'm sensing some favouritism." Ron smirked and spoke teasingly. Harry and Ron both chuckling after Hermione shot an unimpressed glare at him,

"Are you here alone? Or are your parents around?"

"My Mum and Dad wanted to come but Professor McGonagal wrote to them and advised against it. I'm meeting them in muggle London after this and am here with Ron's family." She supplied warmly before pulling Harry into a much gentler hug, "It's good to see that you're okay. I was worried."

Harry stiffened slightly in her arms before returning the gesture,

"You are doing alright, aren't you mate?" Ron, picking up on Hermione's words, asked himself,

"Yeah, homework's done, works been good and I've got a good amount of money saved up. I even got a new job at Ollivanders starting in September." Harry supplied cheerfully, slightly perturbed when Hermione pulled back and their concerned expressions did not falter,

"That's great and all, but not really what we meant…" Hermione trailed off and Harry immediately caught their meaning. Memories of burning flesh beneath his hands and a second face on the back of a mans head ran unbidden through his mind,

"I'm… ok..." Harry managed. The two friends shared a look and silently dropped the subject, kindly switching the subject to Hermione's family holiday to France whilst Ron directed them through the shelves to introduce Harry to his family.

"What's that on your waist?" Hermione asked curiously as they strolled, bemused at Harry's almost wicked smirk,

"Like it? I saved up for it. It's a wand holster." Harry twirled his hips towards her, so she could better behold the charmed dragonhide sleeve that hung onto his belt, "It's got charms to protect my wand and stop theft,

"Fascinating." Hermione all but whispered as she crouched down to get a better look, fingering it curiously and turning it back and forth in her hand once or twice before rising back to her feet with a playful smirk, "Though, I thought you were a wizard, not a cowboy."

Harry grinned broadly and tipped an imaginary Stetson to his friend, the two giggling whilst Ron looked lost.

It quickly went downhill from there though. Harry was introduced to the portly and doting Mrs Weasley who hugged him with a strength that left him breathless and his arm ached after a rigorous shake from Ron's thin smiling father, Mr Weasley.

The problem occurring after being introduced to the only daughter of the family, the first-year-to-be Ginerva (Ginny) Weasley, who stammered out his name with red cheeks at a volume that attracted a few other girls her age behind her. The squealing and pointing in his direction caught the attention of others, more and more people turning and pointing at him as if her were some animal in the zoo until,

"Could it be? Is Harry Potter here with us today?!" An excited voice cut through the noise as Gilderoy Lockhart discovered his presence and dove off of the stage to grab him by the arm, "Come! Come, my lad! Let's all have a good look at you!"

Photo's were taken (Lockhart himself encouraging him to smile under the bright flash) and the weak chinned, blonde wizard in his hideous green and red robes blabbered on about their mutual fame and announced himself as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Afterwards he dropped a pile of signed books in his arms before slapping his back and pushing him on his way.

"I'm glad I don't have to pay for these… _things_ at least." Harry muttered with disdain as he read the blurb of 'Gadding with Ghouls' with wrinkled nostrils, returning to the Weasley's and Hermione quickly after being released from under the gaze of the now loudly shouting crowd. The experience leaving him with a profound feeling of nausea,

"Mom's letting me borrow hers, but only after the poofs signed them." Ron hissed in his ear and the two rolled their eyes before sharing a grin.

"I'll see you guys later." Harry supplied after a little while. His eyes finding a familiar head of blonde hair and the boy deciding he didn't have the patience to deal with them at this time,

"You're going already?" Ginny asked in an almost whine, flushing scarlet when all eyes fell on herm her family hitting her with knowing, teasing glances whilst Harry and Hermione were moderately surprised,

"Erm, yeah. I don't do well in crowds and I have a few things to settle today." Harry responded, accepting another hug and goodbye from Hermione before she turned back to a shelf she had been eagerly perusing,

"Do you have work or something?" Ron asked but was answered with a head shake,

"I would normally, but Madam Malkin's in Paris for a show and closed up shop for the rest of the week. I'll see you guys on the train." Harry turned to Mr and Mrs Weasley with a bright smile and brightly intoned, "It was lovely meeting you. You too Ginny."

And slipped out with goodbyes and well wishes, his eyes finding a familiar looking head of silver hair slip between the shelves for the briefest moment and he contemplated chasing down the person in question to say hello. Deciding to greet her on the Hogwarts Express instead, he slipped out of Flourish and Blotts and into the warm sun.

* * *

 **.**

 **Did you know that Florean Fortescue was originally supposed to be the one to tell Harry about the Deathly Hallows? And also that of all the people who Voldemort killed in the series he is the only one Rowling apparently felt guilty for killing off (as she personally blamed herself)? I didn't when I went to look up Florean's description (I unfortunately didn't take any of my HP books with me when I came to Uni), so the more you know.**

 **This one was fun but turned out longer than expected. I hope you liked it. See y'all next time x**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi again! Question, do you guys want chapter names? I named this one and unofficially named a few for when we get to 4** **th** **year (which I am fucking HYPED for) but wondered if you'd care for it. It's not like it's that big a deal or anything.**

 **Anyway...**

 **starboy454: thank you very much x**

 **Knight25: I would like to point out that we are only in the first few chapters. Monster guys and gals will be making an appearance but they are not as big of a story factor in this one as my other one (but there will be some rather major characters in that category in the next few chapters) please be patient x**

 **Spartan3909: thank you again x**

 **Chosen-One-92: thank you again for the feedback. I have to admit I have no big plans for Lala as it currently stands. I'll admit she's not my favourite monster girl and I am planning on using others in regards to the Hallows. Sorry x**

 **DRAGONDAVE45: Glad you're looking forward to it because so am I. You really have no idea how much fun I've had writing a few of their later interactions haha x**

 **Thank you for the reviews and for favouriting. I'm glad you guys are liking it so far. Please feel free to flag any inconsistencies or anything you find that you don't like, this is still a bit of a process for me and things slip my notice. Also I love to hear from you, even if it's things you think I'm not doing very well.**

 **ONWARDS!**

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* * *

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 **A Wizards Life In Magical Academia:**

 **Chapter 3**

A train whistle reverberated jarringly through the ears and skulls of all who heard it as the Hogwarts Express ordered its passengers to make their way aboard. The hidden platform 9 and ¾ packed and busy as all had come to expect from the 1st of September, as children and young adults poured into the train for a wondrous year of magical academia at Hogwarts.

"It's a shame that you couldn't convince Harry to stay over, he was such a lovely polite boy." Mrs Weasley lamented from before the scarlet steam train as she pushed her daughter's luggage trolley along, entirely ignorant to her cries of _'I can do it myself'_ ,

"When it comes to him personally, Harry likes to take care of his own problems and doesn't really ask for help." Hermione sighed as she responded to the Weasley matriarch, "Knowing him, he'd have thought that him staying over would have been too much of a bother to you."

"Of course it wouldn't have!" A hand hovered over Mrs Weasley's heart as she seemed genuinely offended,

"Good luck convincing him of that." Ron scoffed, smirking as he heaved his heavy luggage trolley along, "Harry's pretty stubborn mum. You could have begged on your hands and knees and he probably still would have said no."

"Nice to know you think so little of me." The boy in question sliding up and speaking from just behind Ron's left shoulder. Causing the boy (and a once more blushing Ginny) to jump just like he did a week prior at the book shop,

"Bloody hell Harry, stop sneaking up on me!"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley you watch your language!" Mrs Weasley's reprimand was harsh and furious before she became composed, kind and motherly as she addressed Harry instead, "Hello Harry dear, how are you?"

"Hello again Mrs Weasley. It's nice to see you." Harry smiled and waved from beside Ron before whacking his hip into Ron to move him up, the two pushing the heavily laden trolley together towards the train. Harry offering a brief friendly smile to Ginny as they overtook but slightly surprised when she blushed heavily and refused to make eye contact,

"You have a lot more than last year." He grunted in indication to the heavy load,

"I made a few... purchases. You're not the only one who got a summer job." Ron responded, "Not incredible money, but enough to fund a little project of mine."

"Project?"

"Oh! he wouldn't shut up about it at the start of the break." Fred Weasley slid up beside him with a grin more mischievous than the devil, "Some big bit of research he was going to do when we got back to school."

"Said he needed money for equipment though." George Weasley copied his twin on Ron's other side, "Actually got down on his knees and begged mum to help him get a job at Flourish and Blotts."

"You got a job at Flourish? Why didn't you come say hi?! You knew where I was." Harry felt tongues of disappointment stab through him at that information,

"Not the one on the alley, smaller one up by us." Ron provided pleasingly, "Guy running it is an old crackpot who just threw money at me to keep me there."

"Taking advantage of the elderly. How noble of you Ronald." Hermione murmured.

His ears and temper flared up warmly,

"Hey, if this little project of mine pays off, then I'll easily be able to pay him back every knut of it."

Pieces began to click in to place for Harry.

"We're not helping you with that." Fred stated with a smirk,

"Yeah, last year was a freebie." George continued smugly,

"You two help your brother this instant." Mrs Weasley ordered sternly, the two flinching and grumbling in unison as they hauled the ridiculously heavy trunk onto the train, "Have you got everything, dear?"

"YES MUM, HE HAS EVERYTHING." Fred and George said together as they pulled, lifted and dragged, "There isn't anything that he DOESN'T have."

She rolled her eyes and quickly drew her wand. The stick of wood flashing through the air and the trunk was immediately lighter in their hands.

"Wow! What spell was that?" Harry asked in wonder, Mrs Weasley surprised at the boy's genuine interest as she slipped her wand into the pocket of her cardigan,

"It was just a Lightening Charm, dear. Just a boring household spell."

"Can you tell us the incantation?" Hermione asked as she moved in, bright eyed and curious,

"It looks super useful." Harry continued his friend's sentiment with a wide grin that tugged at the mother's own lips as she delicately explained how to perform the spell,

"But you two wait until Hogwarts until you try anything please, ok?"

"Yes ma'am." They said in unison and thanked her with grins that warmed her heart. Unknowingly reminding her of her own children in their younger years, before they became jaded and used to the sight of magic.

A loud whistle from the scarlet express interrupted her reminiscence as she called her children towards her one last time. Taking them in with eyes that threatened to tear at any moment,

"All of you behave yourselves, all of you work hard and all of you have a lovely time." The Weasley's parroted an agreeable response before she turned an almost wry glance to her youngest son's friends, "That goes for you two as well. Do stay out of trouble, please."

Harry and Hermione both blushed under the attention and nodded with a smile before they were ushered off onto the train. The group were a bit shocked when Harry's eyes went wide and he scurried down the train briefly after entering, only to return moments later,

"Mrs Weasley!" He called as he quickly hopped off, thrusting a small ribbon bound red box towards the woman as steam rose up to the ceiling and people hurried aboard, "It's very late but thank you for the Christmas present."

He smiled brightly up into her stunned expression and leaped back onto the train before she could respond, waving at her from behind her children as the train began to move away. She followed it at a fast pace until it flew out of the station on its path to Hogwarts School.

She looked down at the box of chocolates as happy, lonely tears rolled down her cheeks. Already missing her dear babies and feeling slightly guilty about already picking a favourite out of Ron's two friends.

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* * *

.

"Where the hell is your trunk?" Ron asked Harry petulantly as he dragged his along. Although lighter it still wasn't quite the lightest thing on the planet.  
"Already in the compartment. I got here super early."  
"Why though?"  
"A precaution. I had some weird elf come to me a few weeks ago and tell me not to go to Hogwarts."  
"What?!" Hermione shouted out her as she halted from pulling her own trunk along,  
"How are you having an easier job than me? Your trunks bigger than mine!" Ron whined, glaring hatefully at the deep brown trunk he was forced to haul along and drawing Hermione away from her incredulous question by her instinctive need to impart knowledge,  
"Mine came with a Featherlight Charm woven into it. Professor McGonagall recommended it when she took me around."  
"Must be nice." The boys muttered darkly.

Hermione just grinned.

Harry lead them further along and slid open the door to a compartment at the back end of the car. Frigid autumn air flooding the compartment from the open window, the only occupant of the compartment seeming unconcerned by the cold as she turned amethyst purple eyes to the three and them and a smirk curled her full, pink lips as a gust of wind ruffled her silver hair,

"My, my Harry. If you'd have told me you were bringing guests-"

"You would have dolled yourself up?" Harry interrupted tiredly, beyond bored with his friends little catchphrase, "You've had all summer to come up with a good catchphrase, Delphi. I'm beyond disappointed."

A heart shaped face, deep purple eyes, and silver hair that looked both out of place and incredibly flattering on the young girl's head as it fell to her waist in silky shimmering waves. Her pink lips smirked prettily, and her eyes dazzled in both amusement and genuine happiness as she beheld her friends,

"Morning Rowle."

"Hey Delphini!"

"Weasley. Hermione. I would have come out myself to say 'hi' but Harry asked me to keep the compartment for us." Delphini Rowle greeted with a shrug, nodding to the two when greeting them.

"Malfoy and Parkinson were hovering about." Harry grunted an explanation as he and Ron hauled the latter's trunk up to the overhead shelves next to Harry's. Delphi sighed at the struggling boys and yanked her wand free from the pocket of her dark jeans,

"Wingardium Leviosa." She incanted tiredly and floated the trunk onto the shelf neatly, "Honestly, it's like you boys forget that magic exists."

"It's like you forget that we aren't allowed to perform it outside of Hogwarts." Harry responded hotly, smirking smugly at the loss of colour in Delphini's face.

"Indeed, we are, technically, not at Hogwarts yet." Hermione declared with a similar smug air to her. Colour only returning to Delphi's face several minutes later when there seemed to be no negative repercussions for her display. The three of them having settled into the plush red seats and begun to chat as the train pulled out of London.

"Why are you studying Alchemy, Ron?" Harry bluntly asked after the quartet were finishing laughing at a horrifically idiotic customer Harry had informed them of,  
"Harry!" Ron whined when the girls stared at him in disbelief, "I asked you to keep it to yourself."  
"I thought you would have told Hermione and Delphi, were you not going to?"  
"YOU are studying alchemy?" Delphi asked, tone and expression uncomprehending (Hermione was silent, but her expression was similar),  
"Not... for a while." Ron trailed off in his response to Harry. Eyes on the floor as his cheeks blazed,  
'...oops.' Harry thought guiltily.

"You're trying to make a Philosopher's stone. Aren't you?" Delphi asked, tone serious but curious. Ron's flinch and avoided eye contact all the answer they needed,  
"Ron, I don't want to tear you down." Hermione began at a snail's pace as she hoped to find the right words, "But..."  
"I know it's hard. And that I'm nowhere near as smart as you Hermione." Ron sighed, "It's a stupid plan but I want to try. Even if I'm too dumb or too poor a wizard to accomplish it "  
"It takes more than books and cleverness to be a great wizard, Ron." Harry stated firmly, drawing Hermione and Ron's surprised expressions, "Don't start putting yourself down or you'll never recover."  
"I'm guessing this is to help your families position?" Delphi asked kindly, answered with a nod and smiling in response, "That's very noble of you, you're a true Gryffindor for even attempting it."

Ron's surprised face turned to Delphi before a half smile curled up a corner of his lips. Sitting up straight he nodded firmly.  
"Have you got any idea how to do it?" Harry asked,  
"I have a start." He stated with a grin and jabbed up to his trunk with a thumb, "It's why I got a job and I brought Flammel's manuscripts."

"No offense Ron, but I doubt one of the greatest alchemists alive would leave the secrets to his greatest creation in anything that is public." Hermione winced as she spoke, though she was quickly confused by Ron's grin,

"Ah! But he did." He declared brightly and whipped a scroll of parchment out for the group to see and unfurled it reverently, "I wrote a letter to him asking him about it. I told him about hwat we did last year in protecting the stone and he sent me a letter that reads…"

He intoned the letter (more from memory) to them with a wild grin,  
"Within my works are the secrets to my greatest, most coveted prize: The Philosophers Stone. Should you prove to be as tenacious, pure hearted and honourable as you have portrayed yourself to be, then their secret will quickly make itself yours." He passed around the parchment for his friends to gawk at in disbelief.

"So... the equipment you bought?"  
"You found out how to do it?" Delphi continued Harry's thought,  
"There was a cipher on the back of one of the manuscripts. I got my big brother Bill to help me decipher it, he's a curse breaker you see." Ron proudly declared,  
"Curse breaker?" Harry asked in confusion,  
"They're basically treasure hunters for the Goblins." Delphi explained quickly, "Finding secrets is part of the job description."  
Harry had more questions but ultimately stayed quiet to allow Ron to continue.  
"It's slow work and I'm not quite done yet, but I should know how to do it pretty soon."  
"That's... incredible." Hermione whispered, awestruck.

"Still, if you haven't been able to solve it with the whole summer to work on it, how will you manage during school time with homework and the like?" Delphi asked, curiosity and concern lacing her words,  
"I'll probably just skip History to work on it." Ron shrugged, expression pensive, "Maybe Defence too."  
"You'll do no such thing!" Hermione hissed and entered a glaring match with Ron,  
"Why not? We're being taught by the guy who ranks winning a smiling competition as his crown achievement."  
"Oi! Speaking of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award." Delphi interrupted excitedly as she ruffled through her bag and came out with a glossy magazine titled Witch Weekly. Flipping through the pages with abandon before shoving it forward to Ron and Hermione (Harry getting up to peak at the pages in question, "Look who I found!"

The page spread in question was the top four of the aforementioned competition, with a very familiar face being jabbed at by Delphi's tapping finger. The picture, sitting under his name and large number 3 in a flowing, stylish font, was of Harry. He stood in his pinstriped shirt and hat that made up his Fortescue uniform. The black and white, moving photograph saw him turn towards the camera with a look of curiosity pinching his features before his face burst into a bright, heavily amused grin.  
Delphi tried to hold the gaze of the three of them but failed under their knowing and unimpressed gaze.

"If it's any consolation, you did stop that fool Lockhart from getting a podium place." She moved her finger lower to Gilderoy Lockhart in fourth.  
"Why... in the name of Merlin... would you enter me in that stupid competition?" Harry asked in livid irritation,  
"The prize was 1,000 galleons. I thought you could win." She shrugged unapologetically, "I would have split it."

"Can you believe that idiot is our new Defence professor?" Ron sniffed irritated, unintentionally changing the subject after the shaking head dismissal of the magazine,  
"Considering his listed accomplishments I think we should count ourselves lucky that someone so incredibly skilled and knowledgeable is taking the time to teach us." Hermione responded identically,  
"Bet you five galleons he shows us he's a massive coward in lesson one." Harry provided flatly, smirking as Hermione recoiled aghast and Delphi and Ron snickered.

Shortly after Hermione huffed her acceptance of the bet, two girls quietly rapped on the glass pane of the compartment door and nervously slid it open,

"What are you two doing here?" Ron asked in an almost irritated tone. The girl on the right was the nervous and fidgety (but easily recognisable) Ginny Weasley. Whose brown freckles popped out against her scarlet skin.  
Beside her was a girl of a similar height, her hair dirty blonde and eyes sky blue, distant and unfocused.  
"Don't be rude Ron. She's your sister." Hermione snarled,  
"Are you looking for a compartment?" Harry questioned gently, still confused at Ginny's behaviour (a little 'eek!' escaping her throat when addressed),  
"Do speak ladies, it's weird to stand there in silence." Delphi drawled out, unimpressed.

"Y-y-yeah. W-w-we're l-l-looking f-for-"  
"Geez Ginny, pull it together!" Ron interjected and Harry was fascinated at what looked like Ginny's temper flaring as she stiffened and the tips of her ears burnt in a similar shade to her hair,

"You're free to sit in here." He tried to supply peacefully,  
"Never mind! I'm not sharing a compartment with HIM!" Ginny snapped, jabbing a vicous thumb at her brother before the colour drained from her face. Catching Harry's flinch at her volume and realising just who she had just snapped at. She spluttered and blushed once more and turned with her trunk and scurried off out of sight,  
"Apologies for the disturbance." The blonde spoke airily for the first time. Performing a mock curtsey before closing the door and strolling after her friend in a far more leisurely manner.

"THAT was unnecessary." Harry muttered as he locked an unimpressed gaze onto his red head friend. The boy matching his sisters blush as he was held under the gaze of his friends.  
"Well I'm sorry! I'm tired of the babysitter for my baby sister! I'd like to have a life too you know..." Ron pouted, crossing his arms and glaring heatedly out of the window. The others deciding to leave him to it.

An hour later the atmosphere was far more relaxed as the quartet had settled into the long train ride. Ron had settled into a soft snoring nap after losing a game of Exploding Snap to Hermione, the two's fingers stills displaying mild burns ten minutes on. Whilst Ron mashed his cheek against the cold glass, Hermione (unsurprisingly) read. A novel she has picked up after Harry left them in Flourish and Blotts and her intense expression and pace in which her eyes flew across the pages indicated that she was not to be disturbed.  
Possibly a surprise was Harry pulling a book of his own down into his lap. A few sizes larger than Hermione's and taking up most of his lap. Until it became apparent that Delphi was reading over his shoulder and he moved it slightly towards her as the two entered into quiet conversation,  
"It was fine." Delphi insisted quietly under Harry's worried look, "Euphemia was as foul as she always is, but I had a roof over my head, food in my stomach and not too many chores to do."  
"It's not right you know. You should tell someone."  
"Like you did with the Dursley's?"  
"That's different."  
"It's the same." Her insistence was sharp and her voice rose ever so slightly before falling back to an appropriate volume, "She's the kindly saint who took in that ruffian, abandoned child out of the goodness of her heart. Sound familiar?"  
Harry scowled, but Delphi knew it wasn't directed at her. But at the memories that turned his stomach, thus she smiled,  
"You're lucky that you got out so early. I don't think I have it in me to go out and work now and leave my own survival in my own hands."  
"I just got lucky, Delphi."  
"Like last year?" There was a hardness to her tone now that made Harry flinch,  
"I've already said sorry."  
"I know, but I want to reiterate what I said back then." Delphi hissed as she leaned closer to him and locked purple eyes in green, "Don't be relying on luck anymore. If you're going off to do something stupid, even if it's with those two, tell a teacher and count me in. You don't get to die young Harry Potter."

[FLASH]

 _Harry had awoken in the unfamiliar Hospital Wing the previous afternoon. The bright lights and white sheets and surfaces doing his eyes no favours and his nose wrinkling under the foul, unfamiliar stench of potions and cleaning supplies._

 _Surrounded by well wishes (in the forms of cards, sweets and a toilet seat) and awaiting for his discharge, Harry was surprised to have a visitor,_  
 _"Hi Delphi!" His dark haired friend marching his way from the quietly closing doors,_  
 _"Don't 'Hi Delphi' me, Potter." She hissed. Harry flinching and silently hoping that the school nurse would appear and protect him from his friends fury, "You're lucky I waited for your recovery before I came to kick your ass."_  
 _She dropped onto the bed, ignoring the yelp of pain as she landed on his leg as she jabbed a finger in his face,_  
 _"I'm sorry!" He squeaked,_  
 _"For?"_  
 _"Getting into trouble."_  
 _"And?"_  
 _"For... getting hurt?"_  
 _"Correct moron." She snarled pulling her finger away and slipping off of his leg, "Stupid Gryffindor. Being a hero isn't charging in somewhere and getting your ass kicked. What happened to getting help from the teachers? If I hadn't gotten Snape who knows when they would have found you three."_

 _Harry's head was bowed. He had been unconscious for three full days after thwarting Quirrell (and by extension the Dark Lord Voldemort's) plot to steal Nicholas Flammel's philosophers stone from its hiding place within the Mirror of Erised._

 _"Dumbledore said I killed him." Harry murmured after a bout if silence._  
 _"Him?"_  
 _"Professor Quirrell." The floodgates opened after he said his name, "Whenever he touched me, his skin would burn and peal off. So I grabbed his face until he let me go and left me alone and..."_  
 _Harry was going to vomit, his eyes wide and the tears frozen in their ducts as his nose was filled with the stench of ozone once again and his ears inundated with screams. Screams of agony and screams of murder._

 _The walls closing in, his senses assaulted by the memory of the murder he performed, he would have screamed in fright when a pair of arms firmly snaked around him, had his face not been pulled into the shoulder of the girl who had done so._  
 _"It's his fault. Not yours." She whispered into his ear, Delphi's hug tight and warm as she knelt on the bed with him, one hand rubbing and holding the back of his head whilst the other did the same on his back, "He chose to hurt you and you didn't know he would burn when touching you, right?"_  
 _Harry pulled back to address her,_  
 _"Not at first, but when I did-"_  
 _"You did what anybody else would have done. Fought him off the only way you could." Delphi interrupted him forcefully, "Harry he was an adult. A Professor and a fully grown wizard. He wanted you dead and he would have succeeded."_  
 _"But-"_  
 _"Stop." She placed a hand over his lips with a glare. Though her expression was quick to soften, "The fact that you are feeling this way is good. It shows you're still human and that you know killing is wrong. But it was him or you Harry, and I'm glad you're the one here."_

 _Harry's wide-eyed stare lead to another hug from Delphini,_  
 _"That's kind of like what Dumbledore said." He muttered, smiling as she chuckled,_  
 _"Then you have proof that I'm just as wise as the headmaster." She bragged into his shoulder as she nuzzled in, "So promise you won't go running off to do this stupid stuff again without me, okay?"_

 _Harry nodded._

[FLASH]

"I like the colour." He poked her dyed silver hair,  
"I was going to go with blue tips as well, but Euphemia threw the dye out of the window when she was what I'd done." Delphi laughed, Harry quietly following along, "So it's only half done."  
"Still looks cool." He said with a grin she copied.  
"All things considered." Delphi shot a soft elbow into his hip, "I'm happy to see you again."  
Harry smiled in return and returned to the book. Hoping his friend wouldn't see the heat in his cheeks but glad she made no comment when he was certain it showed. The long day to night trip from Kings Cross to Hogsmeade bundling along with no major incidents afterwards.

.

* * *

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 **Another piece of HP trivia, did you know that Ginny and Voldemort have the same wood (Yew) for their wands? Additionally, Ginny's wands core is unknown. Since she is in every book and people like Lockhart have a confirmed wand core, that tid-bit surprised me as well.** **Rowling did absolutely nothing (to my knowledge) with that fact and I find it sinful, haha!**

 **After today I don't know when I'll be able to update again. I have a project coming up but I'll hopefully be able to whistle through the next two or three chapters and get second year out of the way**

 **I'm going back to bed now. See you around guys x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again all! It's been about two hours since I uploaded chapter 3 and here I am starting on four.**

 **Spartan3909: Hi and thanks again x**

 **starboy454: Thank you very much x**

 **DRAGONDAVE45: Why not both? x**

 **And to the Guest reviewer… hehehe! Let's get on with chapter 4…**

* * *

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 **A Wizards Life In Magical Academia:**

 **Chapter 4**

The softness of the four-poster bed in the Gryffindor, second year boy's dormitory threatened to swallow Harry whole as he wearily sat down upon it. Stomach uncomfortably full and legs stiff and tired from a day devoted mostly to sitting and eating.

"Eugh!" Ron moaned in loud pleasure as he flopped back first onto his own, right next to Harry's, "I wish I could just take this thing home with me. It's so much nicer than mine."

Harry nodded in agreement as he copied his friends position by laying back on his own, catching sight of another roommate behind him as he did so,

"Hi Neville." Harry greeted cheerily to the timid boy unpacking his underwear. The somewhat chubby, dark haired boy jumped slightly at being addressed and offered a shaky smile to the boy who slept next to him, "Did you have a good summer?"

"I- yeah. It was alright thanks, you?" Neville responded with a bemused look when Harry gave him an upside-down nod, "That's good. I'm sorry by the way."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, i-if - I mean… I think you have a nice smile. I voted for you to win."

Harry groaned, hands over his face whilst Ron (who had heard the comments) guffawed loudly and invited their other roommates on the other side of the room (Dean and Seamus) to do the same.

"I hate you all." Harry grumbled as he sat up and scooted back to his headboard, catching Neville's slump out of the corner of his eye he added, "Not you though, Neville. Sorry, I didn't actually enter the competition. Delphi somehow got that picture of me and submitted it."

"Yeah, Harry didn't even find out till this morning when Delphi showed us." Ron sighed as he sat up,

"Bet she wouldn't have told you if she'd have won." Dean said from the other side of the room as he hung up a West Ham poster above his headboard, "Would have cashed in the money and moved on with her life."

"She said she was going to split it with me, Dean."

"Split it? It's your smile she'd have been making money from." Seamus snorted in response to Harry,

"I don't care. I would never have submitted myself in the picture, so I think it's fair."

"Poor Harry." Seamus sighed, Harry's eye twitching in irritation at the detected condescension, "We're not the only one's who warned you about the sneakiness of the Slytherins."

"Yeah, you're probably being manipulated." Dean nodded in agreement though he stopped at Harry's glare and Ron's unimpressed gaze,

"She may be annoying, but Delphi's our friends." Ron began in a low tone,

"So, watch your mouth." Harry growled, ignorant to the invisible pressure that quietly and lightly smothered his roommates.

"I think we're all missing one thing." Ron ripped through the tense air and drawing attention to himself, before turning to Neville with a coy smirk, "You read Witch Weekly, Nev?"

The boy blushed harshly under the ribbing and laughter of his dormmates and the five of them chatted away for roughly an hour before they tucked in for the night. All staring up at their ceilings, ignorant to one another as they patiently awaited their dreams.

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* * *

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The first Wednesday afternoon of the Hogwarts first term saw Harry Potter back in Diagon Alley, five galleons rattling in his fist as a small smirk curled his lips.

"You're surprisingly early, Mr Potter." Came the familiar voice of Ollivander as Harry slipped into the dim, lamp lit shop. Eyes ghosting over the floor to ceiling shelves of boxed wands in search of the hidden wand maker,

"Our class ended early today, our new Defence teacher is… something else." Despite strong feelings bubbling under the surface at the thought of the buffoon who had unleashed a horde of mischievous Cornish pixies to terrorise the class and then ran off to leave them to deal with his mess; Harry did not have it in him to insult someone behind their back.

"Ah yes, Gilderoy Lockhart." Ollivander's voice drifted over the wooden counter from the back of the shop with an almost ethereal quality to it. Harry stepped in its direction and waited for the man to show himself, "Cherry, if I recall correctly. Nine inches with a core of dragon heartstring. In all my years, I've never sold a wand to a wizard or witch and had the poor thing feel so… unsatisfied."

Harry snickered slightly under his breath at the thought before his expression turned quizzical,

"Unsatisfied? Wait, do wands have… feelings?" Harry called his question in incredulity, yelping when the man he addressed spoke his answer in his left ear,

"Of course they do!" he almost yelled, not seeming the slightest bit perturbed by the boy leaping away in fright at his sudden appearance, "What was it I told you when you walked into this establishment a year ago?"

Harry's hand was clasped over his chest and he prioritised calming his heartrate and breathing before answering the man's question. Leading Ollivander to tut and shake his head unimpressed,

"If you are unable to remember something so monumentally vital, Mr Potter. Then this partnership of ours is not going to be a very fruitful one." The man sighed, raising an eyebrow when Harry took a steadying breath and spoke again,

"You told me that the wand choses the wizard. I guess it didn't really register with me very well back then."

"Yet you remember that simple fact at least. And I doubt you shall forget it once again." Ollivander intoned almost proudly, "The folly of magic users, and the division that separates the greats from the rest, is those who recognise that wands are not tools to be used, but partners that aid you."

Ollivander's back straightened and his eyes hardened,

"Consider this your first lesson in wand crafting. Wands are alive, recognising this makes one more powerful." The wand maker nodded in abrupt satisfaction when Harry indicated that he understood, "Commit it to memory and follow me. Your role begins immediately."

.

* * *

.

"What kind of idiot unleashes something on their class with no intention of dealing with them?" Delphi groaned in irritation as she furiously slammed her quill against the desk. Glaring frustrated at her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework.

"I'm just surprised he did that to more than one class." Ron grumbled as he slaved over the thick stacks of parchment before him. A part of him lamenting that he was spending his free time, willingly, in the school library, even if it was for his personal side project,

"I think it is an interesting teaching method, especially for the subject." Hermione stated without looking up from her own work, quill gliding across parchment at a vicious pace before pausing as her face morphed into an expression of disgust and irritation, "Though I don't think that was what he had in mind."

There were nods and sounds of agreement between the three of them as they continued working.

"Harry starts his new job today." Ron muttered as he underlined a passage of manuscript and made a few rough notes in his small notebook,

"Where is he working now?"

"He didn't say." Ron murmured,

"Did you ask?" Hermione questioned with a smirk, Ron's ears burned red but he made no response. Answering her in the process,

"Ollivanders. He's getting wand making training alongside the job." Delphi murmured as she finished up a sentence talking about 'Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite toothpaste', "Besides that he has no idea what it is he's going to be doing."

"I sense a bit of favouritism." Ron muttered, tone slightly clipped, "Why is he telling you all of this Rowle and not us."

"Because, Weasley, I actually ask and show an interest in Harry's activities." Delphi responded in kind, looking up from her work with a minute glare in the boy's direction, "Also we wrote to each other every other day during the summer. He told me when it happened."

"Poor Hedwig." Hermione muttered, lamenting the amount of flying Harry's precious owl would have had to do to over the summer break,

"Yeah, if she isn't the strongest owl in the Owlery I'm going up there to see what potions or drugs the rest of them are on." Ron smirked and Delphi shared his expression.

"Back to the topic at hand though, Ollivander's is an incredible opportunity." Hermione sighed wistfully as she once again stopped writing and leaned her head into her hand with a distant look in her eyes, "I'd love to learn how wands are made."

"That sounds kind of boring." Ron yawned as he fingered his own wand, "As long as it's working I don't really care."

"I don't understand you, Ronald. Where's your intellectual curiosity!" Hermione incredulous as she wrung her fists in disbelief. Missing Delphi's snort,

"Ronnie only seems to care about the magic that can benefit him." She said after it, catching Ron's irritated glare with a smirk, "Wand making's hard work anyway and complicated to boot. He'll steer clear."

"You think THIS is easy?" Ron growled, jabbing down at the work beneath him,

"No. But you're good at it and have had help from your big brother whose good at it, too." Delphi responded, sitting up straight and levelling a serious glance at the boy before her in the process, "if you didn't know that you were getting an easy recipe to the most coveted item in the world out of your work, would you even be reading those?"

"What are you trying to say, Rowle?"

"That there is a clear reason as to why your studying alchemy instead of wand crafting, Weasley. And it isn't altruistic."

Ron, in Hermione and Delphi's eyes, clearly did not understand the word that had just been used. But quickly figured it out,

"If you're calling me selfish, then stop. Everyone does things to help themselves every once in a while. I'm doing this to help myself and my family whilst not hurting anyone Rowle." Ron growled with a dark expression, "I don't know what your life is like outside of here. But mine isn't easy, if this will help me and my family in even the slightest way then I have no choice but to pursue it."

Delphi had a response, but kept it to herself. Ron wanted to force her to speak her mind but knew better, instead turning to Hermione (the mediator between him and the Snake, when Harry wasn't around). Confused he followed her still staring eyes, not because she was looking into space still, but that her eyes were focussed and seemingly following something.

"Err, Hermione?" He tried to gain her attention, only surprised when her eyes narrowed further, seemingly squinting at something flitting between the shelves. Something Ron (or Delphi as she followed Hermione's gaze in equal confusion) could not see for the life of him,

"You ok Hermione?" Delphi asked in a soft voice, surprised when she was shushed and Hermione leaned forward in her seat with a squinting eye,

"Can you... see that?" Hermione spoke up slowly, distracted and almost fearful,

"W-What Hermione? See what?" Ron asked, feeling both dumb and concerned when he still saw absolutely nothing,

"There's nothing there Hermione." Delphi added quietly, turning her attention back to Hermione with an equally worried look, "What can you see?"

There was no response at first. Hermione's gaze was penetrating, her expression confused and even scared, before she flopped back into her seat. Shaking her head and violently rubbing her eyes,

"S-Sorry you two. I'm likely just tired, I thought I saw something but it was nothing." She insisted croakily, her eyes blearily taking in her hands after she pulled them away, "Sorry for worrying you. Let's just get this work done and go to bed."

She smiled brightly at them, the gesture somewhat reassuring before she turned back to her parchment and returned to writing. Her expression more focussed than usual and her two friends, despite having questions and concerns, did not have it in them to disrupt her concentration. The two said nothing as they turned to their work again also, neither commenting on the brief moment where Hermione's pretty brown eyes had been a twinkling, sharp blue. Believing they had just been seeing things too.

.

* * *

.

The… girl?

Harry settled on girl.

The girl Harry had been introduced to was tiny, standing on the tips of her toes brought her barely higher than Harry's kneecaps. And, although Harry was undoubtedly one of the taller boys in his year, he was still only twelve. He wondered if the girl was even three feet in height.

She was dressed in a simple one piece dress, holes littering its skirt as if it had been assaulted by moths. She had tiny brown boots on her little feet, her skin was pale (as if it had seen little light) and her hair was a pinkish red that fell to her buttocks in furious waves. She held a broom twice her size in her left hand and held up her right to him with a toothy grin and bright orange eyes,

"Hello, new friend! My name is Unyi!" She greeted Harry and he squashed his surprise at her miniscule stature enough to crouch down and shake the proffered hand with a soft smile. Her voice was high, soft and filled with genuine warmth and friendliness,

"Err, hi. I'm Harry. Nice to meet you Unyi." He greeted warmly, surprised by the warmth of the tiny hand in his grasp.

"Unyi is a brὺnaidh, or a brownie." Ollivander spoke up from behind him as he rose to his feet. Harry smiled down at Unyi before turning to the wand maker, "She is responsible for most of the shops upkeep. Part of your role will be to assist her when you are here."

"We're gonna be doing lots of cleaning. Old man Ollie is a klutz and can't clean up after himself." Unyi's chirped with a white, toothy smile. Harry's mind drifted briefly to the purchase of his own wand, the destruction the failed wands had caused and how the man had haphazardly hurled the failures (and their boxes) aside and to the ground. He hummed quietly in understanding and smiled himself whilst Unyi smiled brighter and Ollivander snorted, affronted.

"That's enough idle prattle. There is work to be done, fools." Ollivander scowled but his professional tone held an undercurrent of amusement, "I leave you in Unyi's capable hands."

...

Thus, Harry was set to work. The majority of the next hour and a half revolved around returning discarded wands back to their labelled black boxes. Harry was left amused, incredulous and confused as he and Unyi worked on returning wands to the several layered pile of boxes that took up the majority of the space in the dim back room of Ollivanders. Wands discovered in every nook, corner and cranny of the establishments to various expressions of wonder and disbelief,

"That was gross." Unyi whined in disgust as she eyed the Hawthorn wand in Harry's right hand,

"You're not the one who had to shove their hand in that toilet bowl." Harry glared down at the wand in question, "How did it even get in there in the first place?"

"Mr Ollie has good aim." Unyi shrugged her tiny shoulders before scurrying over to the massively reduced pile and returning with the labelled box, "Hmm, maybe this is why?"

A small finger tapped the golden words on the lid, flowing calligraphy stating the boxes supposed contents,

"Hawthorn, 12 and ¾ inches. Mermaid fin core." Harry read aloud and looked worryingly down at thee thin stick in hand, "What?"

"I heard somewhere that all drains lead to the ocean." Unyi declared earnestly, an excited gleam lighting up her eyes, "And if wands are alive maybe it's trying to get back out to the sea."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that, instead he looked down at the wand doubtfully,

"I don't think they're THAT alive." Harry murmured as he put the wand away, quirking an eyebrow as Unyi slammed her hands into her hips and pouted in irritation,

"You're supposed to blindly believe me newbie!" She stated in annoyance, "It's part of the hazing, idiot."

She yanked the box away and stomped off, though she shot him a joking smirk over her shoulder to alleviate the slight, confused tension. Harry following after her in short strides and taking the boxes she offered to him and took them to the directed

"So, how long have you worked here anyway?" Harry asked as he swiftly hopped up onto a stool to reach the higher shelves labelled 'H'.

"I've served the Ollivander family for since my mother passed a decade ago." She said as she scurried over to pass Harry another box,

"10 years? How old are you?"

SLAP!

"OW!" Harry rubbed the back of his head from the wand box that collided with the back of his head,

"DON'T ASK A LADY HER AGE!" She growled, eyes a fiery orange and the fury that burned them caused Harry to recoil in fear,

"S-Sorry." He stammered out his apology and avoided eye contact, that very action drawing his gaze to something else, "Wait, Unyi. What is that?"

The irritated brownie turned to follow his finger and her eyes fell onto the glass, display case shoved against the dark wall, directly under the light of a ceiling hanging oil lantern. Within, mounted on a black, metallic stand was a wand. The wand looked to be over a foot long, the wood a deep brown and well-polished (that fact clearly visible from across the room from the way it glistened under the candlelight.

"It is my families most prized possession, Mr Potter." Came a response from the shop owner, starting his two employees and forcing them to turn his way. He cast his aged eyes over the back room, humming and nodding in satisfaction as Harry hopped off of the stool.

"Do you know the meaning of my family name?" Ollivander asked in an unexpectedly solemn tone,

"Ollivander?" Harry asked and received a nod, his response was a head shake that caused a soft smile on the elderly man's face,

"It means 'he who owns the olive wand' and that," Ollivander pointed to the glass case, "is the wand. Olive, thirteen inches, the core is a crystallised paste created through the union of the powdered fang of a chimera and the blood of the wands creator, first user and my oldest known ancestor, Gula Ollivander."

"W-Wow…" was all Harry could manage, feeling the awe and respect that Ollivander paid to the mounted wand. Harry himself impressed that the item remained in such pristine condition despite being a few thousand years old.

"Have you been working him hard, Unyi?" Ollivander changed the subject with a quirk lifting the corner of his mouth,

"You made a good choice." She responded gleefully, and Harry felt his cheeks grow warm under the mans approving gaze and Unyi's smile. Though he was slightly confused by the look the two quickly shared and the mirth that quickly infected her innocent smile,

"I think that will be enough for today, Mr Potter." Ollivander decided with a swift nod, He turned quickly on his heels and went to the cash register, Harry trotting quietly behind after a nudge and smirk from Unyi, "For your services."

Harry had a small pile of heavy, gold Galleons dropped into his hands and after a lightning fast use of mental maths he surmised it was the appropriate payment for the hours he had worked, thus he profusely thanked Ollivander,

"Don't thank me yet, Mr Potter." The old man stated almost cryptically, his eyes turned searching and Harry flinched under them (yet still held the man's steady gaze). The old wandmaker hummed thoughtfully before a soft nod and smile before he continued to speak, "I believe this will work."  
"What will work, Mr Ollivander?"  
"This arrangement of ours." He responded with a bright smirk, "This will definitely work."

Harry was ushered out after that statement and told that he would be expected again in the next week,

"Where we'll discuss and prepare you for the second half of your employment."

The door was closed before he could formulate any further questions. Leaving the Boy Who Lived to stare in confusion (and concern) at the closed door for a few more minutes before activating his Portkey and swirling through time and space back to Hogwarts.

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"A very good choice indeed, Ollie." Unyi brushed dust off of her mud, brown dress as the old wandmaker hopped over the counter and strolled back into the bowels of his shop. The brownie following a few strides behind with a skip in her step (partially out of necessity, in order to keep up, whilst it was also a product of her good mood.)

"I am glad one of them finally received your seal of approval, though…" Ollivander slid a thick oak door located on his back wall open, wall mounted torches roaring to life in response, illuminating a dark staircase that carved through earth and stone far beyond the man and demi-human could see as it descended, "I will not lie. I am conflicted over using a boy so young."

Unyi's response was a musical giggle as she slipped past him and hopped down a few pairs of stairs, turning on her heels and smirking in almost cruel condescension,

"You humans and your hang-ups." She trilled as her hands found her tiny waist once again, "Not only at his age will he have some good stamina, but I hear that they like them most when they're young and cute like he is."

A shiver ran the length of Ollivander's spine, the icy guilt not at all alleviated, even if he understood that this little… arrangement, was beneficial not just for the success of his shop. But the human race as it currently stood.

"That… did not help at all Unyi." Ollivander sighed, following his partner in descending the stairs. The brownie's smirk curling ever more cruelly as she spun back around and slipped on ahead,

"I'm not here to help, Ollie. It's not why her majesty sent me at all." She called over he shoulder, stopping briefly before she fell out of sight and glancing back with orange eyes that flickered and burned just like the burning torches, "I'm here to get us some results."

He had nothing to say in response, thus he let her run off. Trekking behind at a slower, more reluctant pace, the weight of his sins (the ones he had committed and the ones he was yet to commit to) weighing on his already weary shoulders as he strode…

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 **A bit shorter this time, but there isn't much else that I can put in this chapter. Look forward to the next one.**

 **Thanks for 1,000 views so far, see you when I see you x**


	5. Chapter 5

**I feel like I did Unyi a bit dirty last chapter, but I couldn't find a better way to introduce the little… darling (-sarcasm-).**

 **Spartan3909: No problemo x**

 **starboy454: Thank you x**

 **FinalKingdomHearts: I explained this in the second chapter's AN. I will be ignoring/skipping things that are not necessary for the telling of my story.**

 **And to the Guest review, knowing Harry's luck, what do you think will happen...**

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 **A Wizards Life In Magical Academia:**

 **Chapter 5**

The month of November brought an icy wind and a layer of frost to the castle of Hogwarts. Fireplaces in common rooms were now warming the rooms 24/7 and the students had (for the most part) settled into the grind and routine of school life.

Or they had until the events of that years Halloween a few days prior…

Despite the sombre and serious reasoning behind the formation of this particular club and the ever-present shroud of worry many felt in the wake of the discovery last week, there was a feeling of electric excitement coursing through many members of the student body as they crammed into the magically enlarged classroom on the second floor. The majority of the school gathered for the first time in somewhere other than the Great Hall for the first meeting of the Hogwarts Duelling Club, enthusiastically founded and headed by international superstar, Gilderoy Lockhart,

"All I'm saying is that it is stupid for anybody other than Professor Flitwick to be founding a Duelling club." Harry spat out, he found several pairs of eyes flicking to him in a seemingly silent disagreement to the statement, but his eyes narrowed as an equally silent dare to make a comment,

"Totally agree mate. I bet that fool can't even out-duel a Firstie." Ron agreed, the two having stepped behind the chatting girls as they made their way to the classroom mentioned on the club's poster that they had found on the bulletin board of their common room that morning,

"I think you are both being a bit too judgemental." Hermione said from over her shoulder,

"I don't." Delphi chirped.

"I imagine that teaching is a fairly difficult profession and that Professor Lockhart has just been having some difficulty adjusting." Hermione continued with a soft glare to her purple eyed friend, turning to face the boys when they reached the classroom in question. Deep brown doors, set into the cold grey stone walls, thrown wide to reveal the black robed Hogwarts students jostling inside, "He has many legitimate accolades and accomplishments, duelling included. I am certain that-"

"Wanna lose five more Galleons?" Delphi grinned evilly as she nudged the bushy haired brunette, "Bet I can prove that he's a fraud."

"If you could genuinely prove that then **I'D** give you five Galleons." Ron said with a laugh,

"Shake on it?"  
"Bring it."

"No. More. Gambling." Hermione interrupted the two in a wonderful impression of Minerva McGonagall, hands on her hips and her tone and expression stern. The two in question shared a grin but backed off (publicly) and instead turned to enter the classroom.

"I heard around that Professor Flitwick was asked but told Lockhart that doing this club as his second was beneath him." Harry stated as they slipped into the bustling, noisy room. Sticking with his friends as his eyes flicked from face to face as they carved through the crowd,

"Really, from who?" Ron asked with an amused grin. Harry grimaced as he said the next word,

"Lavender…" The others forming similar expressions,

"I'll be taking that with a grain of salt then." Hermione murmured, Delphi hummed in agreement as she tied back her silver hair,

"Either way, this'll be fun." Delphi spoke up as she smirked,

"It's gonna be hilarious." Ron agreed with a sadistic edge to his grin, "I'm looking forward to getting in some practice in against Malfoy and his goons."

"I was thinking more about the humiliation that is going to befall our dear Professor Lockhart." Delphi responded with a faux sigh, pretending to be upset before matching Ron's grin, "But pimp slapping that ponce and the trolls will be fun too."

A rise in volume of the murmuring and gasps turned the quartet to turn their heads to the door as the clubs founder arrived.

With a flourish of his teal robes and a flash of his award-winning smile, Gilderoy Lockhart strode into the classroom, students parting respectfully as he made his way to the centre. A raised, wooden platform draped in a rough, purple carpet awaited the Defence professor, who was followed (with his ever-present scowl and night black robes) by the ever-unimpressed,

"Professor Snape?" Were the incredulous whispers of the students as he strode behind him, black ropes flapping about like the wings of a bat as he ate away at the ground with his long strides.

"Attention all!" Lockhart called as he and the Potions professor took to the stage, Snape glared down whilst Lockhart surveyed the assembled with a smug, proud expression, "AHA! Welcome all! This'll be the first, official meeting of the Hogwarts Duelling club. Hosted of course, by yours truly."

Lockhart flashed his smile once again and many of the students swooned under it. Ron grimaced as he saw a light blush develop on Hermione's face as she looked away from the Defence professor. Nudging Harry and Delphi and the three rolling their eyes that the, unarguably, smartest out of the three of them could possibly be so enamoured by the fool.

After a quick explanation of the club's formation and activity, as well as a one-sided massacre in Professor Snape's favour, where the Potions Master hit the Defence Professor with a Disarming spell so powerful he was flung off of the platform and into a wall ("I've never felt so conflicted in my life." Ron muttered), they were set to work.

They were set into pairs and positioned facing them in chalk drawn squares. Delphi shrugging as she was ushered over, across from Pansy. Ron smirking and joking as he was pushed towards Seamus. Hermione gulping but settling into a ready stance when placed up against the physically foreboding Millicent Bullstrode. And Harry, rolling his eyes as he was set before the sneering visage of his 'rival' Draco Malfoy.

"Oh! So, at last we meet in the duelling square." The boy himself announced with a flourish of the hands and deep, sarcastic bow, "I've been waiting for this."

"I have been too. You can't really call Filch to win the duel for me now though, can you?" Harry drawled with a low smirk as the boy flinched and bristled,

"I do believe that you are speaking nonsense, once again, Potter." He spat in response,

"Or maybe I'm talking about the time you challenged me to a duel and then weren't man enough to show up and get your ass kicked." Harry replied with his smirk only growing wider at Malfoy's growing fury, "I wonder. Was it the dark you were scared of? Or just little old me?"

"Like anyone would be scared of you!"

"You must be! Calling me out but not showing up to put your money where your mouth is." Draco was visibly shaking and seething in rage as Harry tried to smother his smirk before he spoke again.

"You did warn me on day one that some wizarding families are better than others. And you said you were willing to help me make sure I didn't make friends with the wrong sort." Harry spoke again with a sincere, earnest smile, that quickly morphed back into his sadistic grin as he spoke again, "Thanks for that, all you've done since is show me how right I was making the friends I have."

"Now remember children." Lockhart called dover the buzz of conversation, "We are practicing Disarming spells. Only. Disarming spells."

"Petrificus-" Malfoy snarled in ignorance to Lockhart's calls for attention. Sweeping his wand out of the pocket of his robe and beginning to fire his spell before Snape and Lockhart had given the go ahead to throw one in the first place.

"Expelliarmus." Harry's disarming spell was thrown at Malfoy was a flick of the wrist and collided with the blonde before he could complete the incantation. Snatching his wand from his grip and knocking him onto his backside with a yelp and grunt. Harry rolling his eyes and carefully caught Malfoy's wand in his hand as it flew through the air to him.

"Potter! 10 points from Gryffindor for that horrific display." Snape marched across the room, eyes narrowed in fury, Lockhart following along with a grin of triumph,

"My, Mister Potter! 10 points **TO** Gryffindor for excellent mastery of the spell." Lockhart spoke, arms thrown out flamboyantly (coming a hairbreadth away from smacking Colin Creevey in the face and on to his back), "Hey, how about you two come and demonstrate for us. Show us all how it's done."

Snape and Harry briefly had a look of disbelief shared between them as they looked over at Lockhart, but Snape schooled himself quickly before he yanked Malfoy's wand from Harry's grasp and took Draco aside with a huff and towards the main platform.

"ladies and gentlemen. Do gather round!" Duels were quickly abandoned (one of which, to Harry's distaste involved Millicent Bullstrode, the tallest and heaviest person in their year, holding Hermione in a headlock) and they assembled before the platform in the rooms centre.

For once, there seemed to be a common agreement as Draco and Harry shared a grimace at the man's arrogance and the situation they were being dragged into because of it.

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The tallest tower of the jet-black castle was occupied by two instead of one that day. Though the local time reported by the locals in the nearby German city would have been half past four in a surprisingly warm and sunny afternoon, the castle saw none of that warmth or light. Wards and charms ensuring the area was engulfed in perpetual night, darkness present in all corners of the forbidding fortress which held only a single prisoner. Aged and ruined by time and defeat, yet still feared for the sheer power he had once wielded, and the devastation he had caused whilst commanding it.

This monster of a man, the sole inhabitant of this monstrous fortress that tore into the clouds with its height, was privy to a single visitor that day. The same one he received every few months, the same one whose actions lead to his dishevelled and pathetic state.

"It seems you're having a bit of trouble back at YOUR castle." The words uttered from the dry, aged throat of the drably garbed, ancient old man were accompanied by a cough interrupted laugh. The thin, bony hands that clutched the dark iron bars moving to clutch at his throat, mouth and chest in pain as the addressed looked on in pity and disgust,

"I'm certain I, and you for that matter, have no idea what you are talking about." A second man replied, sat on a highbacked throne before the barred cell door of the tower top prison cell. Face cast into shadow by dim and distant torchlight as he crossed and uncrossed his legs.

"Whispers are carried on the wind, my dear friend." The man croaked hoarsely, yellowed teeth displayed in a slack jawed grin, "Mummy's and daddies are already being told that the Chamber of Secrets has opened once again."

"It is a none issue." He almost grumbled as he rose from his seat. A flick of the wand dissolving it back into the dust and air it had been transfigured from, "I will not be allowing this charade the so called 'Heir' is pulling to continue for much longer."

"I'm glad you are taking this seriously this time around." The man said in solemn, kind sincerity, before his face was twisted cruelly by a smirk once more, "I'm sure the Warren family would have appreciated such a gesture all those years ago when the Chamber opened back then."

"I wasn't in charge-"

"Horse shit. You may not have held the position, but you did hold the power to deal with it then. Just as you do now."

The second man sighed, his hand brushing past his half-moon spectacles as he rubbed at tired blue eyes,

"I must chalk that down to one of my many mistakes." He sighed, missing the emaciated mans quirked eyebrow at the pseudo-guilty admission, "As I do with you."

He did not miss the glare.

"Are you saying you that you should have stopped me sooner?" He asked in a low growl, "Or that you wished you had put me down."

"Blatantly the former, Gellert. You are not an imbecile." The blue eyes of the purple robed Headmaster of Hogwarts fell on the prisoner, disgraced Dark Lord Gellert Grindlewald. The sole prisoner of the castle of Nuremgard, "Should I desire your demise Gellert. I can deliver it upon you at any time."

"Good luck with the Chamber, Albus." Was Grindlewald's cool response, the man rising to thin, shaky feet and hobbling to the miniscule bed he occupied, shoved into the farthest corner from the barred door, "I do hope you can crack the code this time before another little girl's blood splatters onto your hands."

The Headmaster left without another word.

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"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy sneered as he rose from his waist bow. before him. Harry held back a laugh as an icy determined expression settled onto his face,

"You. Wish." He growled in response. The two turning from one another in a swift motion and marching unhurriedly to their ends of the platform, the two swirling to face one another in a differing ready stance. Malfoy's wand held above his head and pointed towards his adversary whilst Harry's dominant hand was held before him, the wand in question levelled at Malfoy's heart.

Lockhart made to count the two down from three, but at two Malfoy was in motion.

"Avertai Statium!" Malfoy hurled a powerful tripping charm, ignoring the previous demand for only Disarming spells. Blindsided, Harry was hit square in the chest and ripped form his feet. Blasted back a foot and nearly off the platform altogether, wincing as he heard gasps of worry and howls of laughter.

Enraged, he flew to his feet, enjoying the smug look of victory on Malfoy's face falling off entirely,

"Rictusempra!" Harry growled, a smirk flowing over his face as the silvery magic of the Tickling Charm flew across the room and punched into Malfoys stomach. The Slytherin folding under the effects in peals of laughter, begging for the boy to stop.

"Enough Potter." Snape ordered quickly, Harry ignoring the Potions master until he noticed his 'victim' having clear difficulty breathing. Lifting the spell and letting its effects subside and the boy catch his breath. Curled up on his side in humiliation, "I don't wish to tell you how to do your own job, Professor Lockhart. But perhaps we should be teaching the students how to defend one's self from spells altogether. To avoid… accidents."

Snape's dark eyes settled on Harry with his last word and left the boy infuriated at what appeared to be a perceived threat. The Potions professor dragging the boy to his feet and heatedly whispering to Malfoy. Lockhart quickly hopping over to Harry, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him away to explain the next spell that he should be using against Malfoy.

Harry quickly noticed Lockhart's shaking hands and tone, his mumbling and non-specific advice and quickly realised that this man was likely not going to be much help. So, with a sigh, he took the important information from the conversation and decided to work with it the best he could.

The incantation was Protego, it was the Shield Charm. The few times he attempted to show Harry the wand movement they had been different (as if the man did not actually know how to cast the spell) but they had all seemed to share an upwards movement. It wasn't ideal, but it was what he was being left with.

There were no smart comments traded between the two boys as they met in the middle again and offered a brief bow. Something, like a shift in the air, warned Harry as he turned his back and he twirled after a few steps, dragging his wand up through the air and almost shouting,

"Protego!" As Malfoy copied and snarled,

"Diffindo!" Harry's spell forming a large thin sheet of transparent blue magic in a rectangle in front of his body, Malfoy's own light sliver spell flicking from the tip of his wand and smacking into it a split second after it came in to being.

The spell's collision with the magical shield reminding Harry of a football colliding with a window pane. Like glass, it shuddered as the spell hit it with an audible **THUNK** , but it proudly held under Harry's desperate concentration and the boy allowed himself a wide smile as Draco grew furious and tried again and again.

When, by the third attempt, Harry's shield had not fallen, Malfoy huffed and glared hatefully at his loathed rival.

"Bravo, Mr Potter. I'm giving Gryffindor 10 points for the display." Lockhart cheered gleefully from the side lines, "It's not often someone so young perfectly executes a spell on their first attempt. But you WERE taught by yours truly, so I guess we shouldn't be so surprised."

Harry's eyes briefly flickered to Snape behind Malfoy, whose sneer of distaste only deepened under Lockhart's praise, before he returned to looking at his adversary. His grip on his wand tightened as a devious look crossed the blondes face. Harry mentally preparing himself for anything as the boys lips parted and his wand moved once again.

"Serpentsortia!" He intoned harshly, drawing a rough semi-circle in the air and jabbing his wand in Harry's direction. There was a brief flash of golden sparks and Harry quickly braced himself as a shadowy mass emerged from the edge of Draco's wand. He had little to fear, however, as the mass came nowhere near to his shield and instead splatted (rather forcefully) into the purple floor of the platform.

Harry had developed an intellectual curiosity in serpents a year ago. After a certain incident, where he had had a pleasant conversation boa constrictor and his cousin Dudley was then trapped in its zoo enclosure, Harry had spent a little while in his summer at a Muggle library looking up the different breeds of serpent native to the world. His curiosity slightly piqued and only satisfied when he knew a little more about the slithering reptiles.

Because of this study, he was able to easily recognise the slate grey serpent that reared up on the ground on the other side of his shield as a Black Adder. The venomous serpent appearing, evidently, as a result of the last spell Malfoy had cast (whose smug disposition was wavering in the face of what he had brought into being),

"That hurt!" Came an angry voice, accompanied by huffs and hisses of pain as the snake rolled its head from left to right, swaying ever so slightly as it took in its surroundings, "Where am I?!"

The snake, Harry quickly recognising that sibilant voice as the snakes own, asked this question as it turned towards the left and moved towards the edge of the platform. Stood shell shocked before the advancing serpent was the Hufflepuff, Justin Finch-Flethcley. Many of his fellow house and classmates moving back in fright and leaving the boy paralyzed as the angry and confused snake hissed and snarled as it advanced.

"Calm down." Harry ordered as softly as he could muster, despite his internal panic matching that of Finch-Fletchley.

Harry settled onto his knees, not taking his eyes off the slate grey serpent. It's eyes a myriad of curious gold and green as it copied the human's low stance,

"Sssspeaker? Where am I?" The snake questioned him with an airy, sibilant tone.

"Hogwarts school. You were summoned by the blonde behind you." Harry nodded his head to Draco, his eyes wide with fear as he backed further and further away. Harry understood entirely and simultaneously rolled his eyes in disbelief. "What does the fool expect, summoning one of the most venemous things on the planet?"

The mamba unleashed a spluttering hissing sound that Harry was able to eventually equate to laughter as the serpent slithered towards him and addressed him with a clearly amused and jovial tone,

"I like you, sssspeaker." It declared as it slid up to him and rose up to approach the kneeling boys eye level, "May I borrow sssome of your body heat? Thissss Hogwartsss place issss very cold."

Harry held out his arm in response and ignored gasps and shouts of shock as the creature coiled up his extended limb and settled onto his shoulders. It's forked tongue briefly danced across his cheek affectionately and eliciting a warm smile from its carrier as he carefully rose to his feet.

"Much obliged." The snake sighed in contentment, it's tail slipping beneath the collar of Harry shirt and making him shudder in slight revulsion. The cool, slippery scales against his skin disconcerting as they wound across his shoulders.

"Potter..." Came Snape's voice, slow and cautious as the Potions Master approached, wand in hand. Harry's eyes flicked from the man to the snake, half lidded eyes warily watching the approach. Harry tensed himself as the serpent's muscles tightened against his back in apprehension, "Stay very still..."

"It's ok." Harry addressed the both of them with a tone he hoped was soothing before turning to speak to Snape in particular, "He won't hurt anyone, he's just cold."

Snape was frozen solid by Harry's words. Eyes wide and wand shaking like an autumn leaf in his pale hand. Confusion ruined the moments novelty,

"What's the matter?" Harry spoke again,

"STOP THAT!" Snape roared, the mamba hissed a challenge and tensed up further as the boy started and recoiled. The shock brought a sense of hyper awareness to Harry's previously dimmed senses, the whispering of the other students reaching his ears now in startling clarity. Eyes flicked from face to face and found nothing but fear in them all.

"W-What's going on?" Harry asked almost fearful, missing the snakes attempts to soothe him in his state of increased sensitivity.

"JUST... just put the thing down, Potter." Snape addressed him in a shaky tone. His own heart racing at a similar pace to the boy before him. But the man was now able to control himself a slight bit better now that the messy haired, carbon clone of James Potter was no longer addressing him in Parseltongue…

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"Unyi. What is this?" Garrick Ollivander's voice shook just as much as his body in rage and confusion as he stopped in the doorway of his workshop.

The workshop of the legendary wand maker was a sanctuary of order and magic. The very image of the room oozing magic. It was compact, regimented and very much what one would likely expect from and elderly, wise and powerful wizard. Shelves (from floor to ceiling) dominated three of its four walls, walls that expanded beyond a human eye could perceive from magical expansion charms. Said shelves were stacked with a myriad of wild and wonderful jars, boxes and phials of chemicals, ingredients and dubious body parts. They stood stacked against thick, leather bound tomes and metal bound chests.

The room smelled musty, its lights were bright and after reflecting off of the many colours and tones on the shelves illuminated the room in white as well as a myriad of rainbow colours.

Or at least it was this morning, when he had left to go to St Mungo's for his potions prescription.

Now it was in chaos. Wood, ingredients and parts slumped together in slimy, stumpy piles across his many thick desks and his large workbench, as well as the stone flagged floor.

"H-H-Hey, Ollie."

The stone beneath his feet cracked loudly in response to the swell of magic in Ollivander's outrage as the brownie appeared before him. The brownie's tiny hands scrunching the skirt of her holey dress she wore as her eyes fell to the floor and did not meet his.

"What did you-"

"It wasn't me!" Unyi interrupted with in a squeal, "I would never do anything like this."

"If you did it by accident just say so." Ollivander pinched the bridge of his nose and rolled his head back with gritted teeth, "But don't lie to me Unyi. If it wasn't you then who was it Unyi. Because I know for a fact that you and I are the only two even able to enter this room."

Foreboding fell upon the old mans shoulders, confusion settling in too when he tried to understand why he was feeling so apprehensive.

"Her majesty was here…" Unyi whispered. Her tone soft and quiet, but her words holding a force that froze Ollivander in his track in fear instead of fury,

"W-What?"

Unyi took in a breath, eyes levelling onto Ollivanders for the first time in their shimmering glory. Her body stiff in fear and determination as she chose to work again,

"The Queen of the Royal Makai and her majesty, the current Demon Lord was here. And she wrecked your workshop." Unyi spat out in shaking anger, seeing the colour drain form the mans face, as her fists clenched, "She had me by the throat Ollie. I had to explain to her majesty why you and her subjects weren't dealing the way that you are supposed to."

Ollivander stood in horror, looking down guiltily at his partner. Shuddering in fear himself at the thought alone of her majesty, the shadowy figure of the ruler of the monsters and demi humans, not only being in his shop, but being violent. It froze him in place and scared him to checking his surroundings, as if the being could possibly still be around.

"We're… going to need to replace a lot of this." Was what he eventually choked out, indicating to the messed room with a shaking hand.

"But, Ollie. You aren't able to-"

"I know. And I also know that I have to use Mr Potter for this." Ollivander sighed as he swept his wand across the floor and the mess began to rise and vanish as he cleaned the room, "I admit I have been avoiding it, but it seems it is inevitable. I'm not physically able to get these ingredients myself anymore."

Unyi flinched as she finally locked eyes with Ollivander, her sad eyes meeting his weary ones. Widening as the wand maker chuckled without humour,

"Why so glum, my dear? Isn't this what you have been waiting for ever since the boy was employed?" he asked almost scornfully, "The boys been in my employ for nearly 3 months, I can safely say I held out for as long as I could before selfishly ruining his life."

"I didn't want to win like this, Ollie." She spoke softly, eyes drooping to the floor again, "I didn't want you to be forced to, I was gonna convince you."

"It would appear that her majesty had other ideas."

"She said she was tired of waiting."

Ollivander sighed harshly and refused to look at Unyi as he stared into the room and summon a pen and roll of parchment as his eyes ghosted over the shelves as the quill began to scribble nots on the page.

"Young Mr Potter is here on Monday, correct? Good." He immediately questioned and answered as he strode, "We need dragon heartstrings. He can go and get them for us…"

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 **Dun dun duhhh! Thanks for reading.**

 **Bye! x**


	6. Chapter 6

**starboy454 and Spartan3909: thank you again you two** **x**

 **DRAGONDAVE45: I wrote about half of this chapter before your Review came through and I kind of giggled about the Demon Lord comment. I'm glad you're enjoying things so far x**

 **Nysk: Thank you very much for the feedback, I really do appreciate it. To address your comments though, with spacing and stuff, for some reason I'm having issues with Doc Manager (it won't put in spaces) hence the full stops before and after line breaks. I'm noticed you said it improved (Thanks) but I am really doing my best with a bad hand.**

 **Also, in regards to first year, I did not feel the need to hit you with the highlights because I'm going to do it later when it becomes more relevant. E.g. Dumbledore and Harry are yet to interact in this story, so when that time comes Harry will likely flashback to his first interaction with the Headmaster. That sort of thing.**

 **Thanks for all the positives and the feedback. I'm glad your taking such an interest. And if you like the duels, look forward to Fourth year and beyond. X**

 **Thanks for everything guys, we're at 2,000 views. I'm glad you guys are liking it as much as I'm enjoying writing it. On with the show! Xx**

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 **A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:**

 **Chapter 6**

The deepest demon realm, the plane of existence furthest from the light of the Heavens, illuminated under the light of a blood red moon that casts long, roiling black shadows across dark stone and dirt. This location was the Royal Makai, the seat of power for the presiding Demon Lord.

The hustle and bustle of the dusty, dark streets was a familiar sight to many, in the sense of its constant back and forth flow of beings, the sounds of shouts and words spoken in commerce, conversation and other transactional communication. But if any mortal were to lay their eyes upon the occupants of this realm as they skipped and strode, they would find little in the ways of familiarity. Tentacles, fangs, horns and tails. This was the realm of demons, thus the inhabitants were far from human. You may find the torso of a voluptuous female, but it would undoubtedly be attached to the abdomen of a giant spider or the long scaled tail of a serpent. You could possibly see a beautiful face in the dark chaos, but their grin would reveal razor fangs as they unfurled thick, leathery wings and ascended to the chilly air.

Harpies, succubi, lamia, ghosts. Far too many species and beings to list and name flowed in and out of buildings, up and down streets. Stopping at stands that sold dubiously bubbling potions, or scary assortments of body parts or beings. Waving at acquaintances, growling at rivals, breathing in this damned air and unabashedly going about their business. All moving closer to or further way from the realms centre and crown piece.

The royal palace.

It's shadow fell miles from itself. The cloudless sky wrapped around the many towers and spires of the citadel that all seemed to be carved from the same gigantic hunk of pitch black stone. The structures towers upon towers surrounded by a gigantic spiked wall and battlements, further encircled by a moat that simply fell away into a nothingness void. A quarrelling group of many legged Arachne on its far edge came to blows with one slipping into the blackness with a strangled yelp. Never to be seen or known again as she fell shrieking into oblivion and out of existence. This location, at the heart of the imposing palace that stood at a size beyond which humanity would ever challenge, was the throne room. The literal seat in the Demon Lord's seat of power.

And SHE sat upon that throne.

A seat she owned and a power she had wielded since the turn of the century, the fourth Demon Lord presiding over any and all monsters in existence. A being of such incredible power, malice and prestige that her name was known by many, but spoken by none.

A name that commanded power.

A name that demanded respect.

A name that instilled fear into all those unfortunate to hear it.

It was a name her own offspring could not speak. A name her beloved husband dared not moan as he lay beneath her. A name those who had sired her could never have dreamed of becoming so notorious. This woman, being, demon, queen sat alone. No guards required in the many columned throne room. Minimal torchlight casting much of the room into shivering shadow, thin dark windows looking out upon dark courtyards filled with blood red flowers, with a throne of gold sat upon a dais in the rooms centre. Where she sat, cross legged and bored, patiently awaiting a visitor under the thick shadows her realm was well known for.

Royal purple stiletto heels clacked viciously against pitch black marble that sparkled under lazy torchlight. Long, dark legs rose and fell, contained in silky purple leggings. Paper white hair fell lush and full to her wide waist, where a pair of equally pale wings sprouted also, longer and larger than her slim, perfectly manicured arms and hands. Blood red, pupil less, usually filled with condescension and disgust, were on that glittering ground in submission and obedience. The dearest and fourth eldest heir of her majesty, the Lilim Succubus Princess Druella. Voluptuous, devastating, conniving, but utterly powerless in the face of the true queen of darkness. Her mother.

"My queen." Was a stiff, cordial greeting from the Demon Lord's first child, the woman she loved and respected but also feared in equal spades.

"Speak." Was the simple order from the shadow casted throne. The only visible part of her mother, touched by the glimmering orange of the flickering flames, being her long-crossed legs.

"The brùnaidh Unyi, partner to the wandmaker Ollivander, has reported that he will be returning to the deal." Druella declared. She cursed herself for her situation, laying low and running errands after the situations she has caused.

Under the veil of the shadows, her queen's lips twisted into an amused yet disgusted sneer,

"What a pathetic old man. Scared back into his duty by a messy workplace." She drawled as she casually checked her nails. Perfect as always, but it was an ingrained habit from her active days of seduction.

"However, my queen. It is not that simple." A sound of confusion emanated from her queens throat as her daughter spoke again, "It would appear the man Ollivander has taken on an apprentice. A young boy who shall be fulfilling his end of the bargain on his behalf."

Silence reigned as the words were digested.

CRACK. The black marble of the elegant throne room split, cracked and crumbled under the force of the incredible magical pressure that rolled from the Demon Lord's throne. Magic, dark and primal, rolled invisible through the air with the viscosity and darkness of oil. Mercilessly choking the daughter of its wielder and all those foolish or unfortunate enough to have stepped too close to the throne room in that instant. The dear daughter choked to breathlessness instantly under the weight of her mother's outrage,

"Pitiful man!" She snarled, violently shuddering torchlight catching her razor-sharp teeth as she bared them. Her highness quickly wresting control of her emotions and power to allow her spawn to draw heavy, desperate breaths. Demon Lord rising to her feet and quietly relaxing clenched fists with a sigh, "As long as the fool is upholding his end of the bargain, I will issue no complaint. See to it that things occur as they should."

"Of course, my queen." The daughter was able to gasp out before her mother turned about and left the room, striding behind her own throne in a hunt for her husband. The succubus ruler of all monsters and demon's intent on throwing the only man she had ever loved down upon whatever surface was most convenient and using him to forget the injustice the foolish human wand maker had reminded her of.

.

* * *

.

Harry Potter wondered if there were any way to acclimate oneself to life altering revelations. Some way to just get used to them without the existential crisis that came with them. Because he had had far too many in the past two years than he would have liked.

His parents were alive. He was a wizard. The mass murderer that had tried to kill his family was also still around. Salazar Slytherin's fabled Chamber of Secrets had been opened, releasing his 'unspeakable horror' onto the school.

And the latest in the list, he was a Parseltongue. A rare ability allowing one to talk to snakes, shared only by the infamous Salazar Slytherin and the malevolent Lord Voldemort himself. Indicating some sort of relation between himself and the two.

Harry felt ill when Hermione explained the situation. Harry having fled the dueling club when Snape had removed the snake from his shoulders and sent it hurtling back to whence it had come, his two housemates had chased him down and caught up to him in the common room,

"You're not the heir. Right?"

Hermione and Harry looked to Ron with an outraged look of disbelief,

"What the hell Ron?!"

"Are you an absolute dunce Ronald?"

"I just want to hear you say it, Harry."

"Of course I'm not, you prat! I was there with you when the Chamber opened, remember?"

"Well, actually, you kind of weren't." Ron replied almost sombrely, "You just sort of muttered about hearing voices and lead us right to it after the message was on the wall."

Harry was left speechless. Eyes wide as he stared down at Ron, unable to speak through the thick feelings of rage and betrayal,

"Screw you, Weasley." Harry hissed, tears shaking unbidding on the corner of his eyes as Ron and Hermione watched in stunned silence at the first time their friend had come close to tears in their presence, "I do nothing but stand up for you and this is… screw you Ron."

Harry stormed past before the tears could fall, throwing open the Fat Lady's portrait and rushing out into the corridors of the school.

"Ronald Weasley. Were you born without tact, you utter imbecile?" Hermione spat to Ron, turning with hand firmly planted on her hips as she glared the redhead down.

"But- I... It was the truth!"

"It doesn't matter! He is our friend. You KNOW that of all people in the school he isn't the heir." Hermione snarled, actually stepping towards Ron in rage,

"I just wanted to hear him-"

"He. Was. In. Tears." She growled, frightening not just him, but the others who were near enough to hear her low, threatening tone. The brunette shaking in fury and upset as one of her bestfriends flinched and withered under her gaze,

"I… I'm gonna go find him."

"Yes. You are."

Ron ran out after Harry and Hermione slumped and sighed. Rubbing and pinching the bridge of her nose in tiredness before slowly following after her boys. Deciding to either find Harry, or hunt down Delphi (who had a knack for finding the him when she couldn't).

* * *

.

* * *

 _The boats smooth glide over the black lake of Hogwarts school had left Harry in awe of the brightly lit castle Hagrid had lead them into. His eyes roved the high-ceilinged Entrance Hall in unabashed wonder, taking in the lazily moving stair cases, the shining and glistening suits of armor, the moving paintings and tapestries and the bright, translucent ghosts and phantoms that passed through the thick and heavy stone of the castle. The green-eyed boy-wizard barely registering the deputy headmistress's information about what was to come next as his eyes fell from their surroundings and to the students himself. Most of their eyes on the teacher as she spoke, Harrys eyes settling on one in particular, who still stood near to the door they had entered through._

 _Her face was heart shaped and pale; the bottom of her thin, pink lips was being worried away nervously between her teeth. Then Harry's attention was drawn, inexorably, to her eyes (as many were drawn to his), beneath the nervousness in her darting gaze was something that drew him in even deeper than the abnormal, yet stunning, purple colour of her irises._

 _They snapped to Harry, sudden and without warning, staring him down in an almost accusatory confusion. The boy flicking his eyes away in embarrassment at being caught staring, shuffling slightly closer to Ron as he felt her heated stare boring in to his side as Professor McGonagall finished her instructions._

" _It's true then? What they're saying on the train." A voice high and loud cut through the nervous murmuring that McGonagall had left in her wake, eye flowing to the alabaster skinned blonde who strutted in Harry's direction followed by the two largest boys Harry had ever seen, "The great Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."_

 _His smile was condescending, his nose turned up and he walked with a particular sway and swagger that made Harry instantly unimpressed._

" _Who are you?" Harry asked as politely as he could muster, even though his mind shrieked at him that he knew him from somewhere before and that his arrogant self likely wasn't worth the time or courtesy, "Have we met? I feel like we've met before somewhere."_

 _That seemed to please the boy as he lit up, porcelain white teeth displayed in a proud, victorious grin before he spoke again, tone even further steeped in arrogance,_

" _It's unsurprising that people would know and recognize me of all people." He decreed with a glowing gaze, "I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."_

' _Malfoy?' Harry pondered the name for a brief second before a glower settled onto his features. Remembering the ponce now, and his incredibly poor impression upon him a few months prior._

" _Oh. I know you." Harry said lowly, the grin and glimmer of the blonde before him melting away somewhat under the lack of a positive reaction. Draco's eyes flashed aggressively as they fell upon Ron's snickering face,_

" _Find that funny, do you? It's not like I have to ask who you are." He spat with venom, "Red hair and a hand me down robe. You're clearly a Weasley."_

 _Harry's unimpressed stare became a glower when he saw Ron visibly shrink in shame under the weight of his words from the corner of his eyes, levelling that gaze to an ignorant Malfoy,_

" _You'll soon find out that there are some wizarding families that are better than others, Potter." Malfoy declared, thrusting his hand out to be shaken, "I can help you there. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort."_

" _On my first day in Diagon Alley your dad whacked me in the back of the head with a cane and called me an urchin." Harry said flatly, mildly enjoying the flinch and flush of embarrassment on the boy's face, "I think I can figure out the wrong sort for myself, thanks."_

 _A sarcastic twist hit his voice with the false gratitude, alongside a sour sneer. The flush deepened on Malfoy's face and Harry clenched his fists in his robe pockets in preparation for a confrontation._

" _You'll regret this, Potter." Malfoy snarled, taking a step forward threateningly with his goons cracking their knuckles behind him,_

" _You sure do put a lot of hair gel on that head of yours. Looks like you care a lot about it…" Harry mused almost distractedly, eyes on said gel slathered head of hair before green locked onto blue again with a glare murderous, "Threaten me again and I'll set that precious hair of yours on fire."_

 _Harry watched the boy's eyes comically widen in fear and his hand fly to his head as he leapt back out of Harry's personal space. The blonde nearly flying into McGonagall, who had reentered the room and had walked up behind him. A scowl causing the boy to wither further and the group of first years were ushered into the Great Hall without any further comments._

 _There was a lot of snickering and whispers as they walked in afterwards, Harry hearing his own name spoken plenty of times and blushing under Ron's hysterical laughter and praise._

 _Turning his head out of instinct his eyes caught the girl again, trailing off to the side on her own with a small, amuse smile on her lips. She caught him staring much quicker this time but instead of a confrontational scowl she offered an amused, happy grin that caused her pretty purple eyes to twinkle._

 _All Harry could do was turn his head away quickly in response before she saw his face burn as red as Ron's hair…_

.

* * *

.

Delphini Rowle had gained an odd reputation in Hogwarts: the person you turn to if you'd like to find Harry Potter (but didn't know where he was).

Oliver Wood when he wanted to beg him to join the Quidditch team, Professor Flitwick and McGonagall and obviously Ron and Hermione when they didn't know where he was.

Like now,

"He did what?" The silver haired Slytherin hissed in annoyance to Hermione Granger, who had stopped her outside of the library half an hour after the Duelling Club had been dismissed,  
"I'm really not repeating myself Delphi. I am just as annoyed with him as you are." She sighed in response, glaring over her shoulder as if the Weasley boy was there to feel her irritation,

"I doubt it Hermione, I want to shove him down one of Moaning Myrtle's toilets." She responded with a sniff or derision, Hermione opening her mouth to speak but finding herself unable to formulate an appropriate response. Delphi sighed and flicked her hair back away from her shoulder and narrowed her eyes in thought, "That's irrelevant. Harry'll be holed up somewhere in a foul mood. Leave it to me, I'll find him."

"I'm coming to."

"Maybe not the best of ideas…"

"I'm not the one who accused him of being the Heir of Slytherin, Delphi. Ron was."

"I know, but we both know that when he gets emotional he says things he doesn't mean and can be, just a little bit, unreasonable." Delphi's face twisted into a grimace and Hermione eventually nodded after a wince. The pair of them knowing full well, having both seen how he reacted to the likes of Malfoy when appropriately riled, that he had a very sharp tongue.

"F-Fine. I'll try and find Ron before he finds Harry." Hermione nodded resolutely, more to herself than to her friend, when she finished speaking and the two set off in opposite directions with quick 'good byes' and 'good lucks'. Hermione headed down the moving staircases to the ground floor whilst Delphi ran across and up to the third floor. The latter girl following a ridiculous hunch, the dull feeling in her chest that she usually followed whenever she was tasked with tracking the Boy Who Lived down.

The thread of feeling that she followed lead her to an interesting part of the castle, a forbidden one to be factual. The second year stepping off of the moving stairs and into the third-floor corridor on the castles right side, only lit by the lingering sunlight of the day as it stood dusty and abandoned. Blocked off from the students the year before and still unused an academic year later.

She whipped out her wand and quietly (and nervously) twirled the 9-inch wand between delicate fingers before she quietly intoned,

"Lumos." And ventured into the darkening corridor with light in hand.

It didn't take long to find him. The corridor was lined with abandoned desks and chairs, Harry firmly sat on the former as he almost glared down at a trap door inlaid in the floor (noticeably less dusty than the rest of the floor).

"Hey, is that where you and the others went last year?" She asked curiously as she approached, crouching down to get a closer look at it without looking over at her clearly upset friend,

"Yeah." He responded quietly. Not looking up or over, eyes firmly planted on the filthy floor.

"Who sent you?" He eventually asked softly, breaching the quietness that had settled over the two of them,  
"Hermione. Thought it would be better if I found you over Weasley." She brushed off her robes as she rose to stand, noting Harry's narrowing eyes and tightening grip on the desk as she did,

"Ron's a prat." He hissed in anger and Delphi hummed,

"Agreed. Honestly can't see why the two of you are such good friends sometimes." She sighed out, crossing her arms behind her head as she hummed in thought again, "Tactless, foolish and way too easy to rile up."

She let out a heavy puff of air and smirked when Harry visibly stiffened, he was angry at Ron but clearly did not like anyone (not even her) speaking ill of him. She grinned,

"But I guess he's brave and this alchemy project has shown that he actually CAN work hard if given the right reason." Delphi continued, shrugging her shoulders as her arms dropped to her side and she turned to the addressed, "He's also pretty loyal, can put most of those Hufflepuff's to shame. He would never abandon you, that's what I think anyway."

"I- No. I guess he wouldn't. Ron's a good guy." Harry started then sighed as he completed his sentence in a subdued tone. Delphi's eyebrows knitting together as she saw fresh tears fall, drawing closer in an inbuilt instinct to provide comfort as he shook in silent sobs.

"It's going to be just like Privet Drive all over again." Harry growled eventually, white knuckled hands grasping at the desk as hot tears streamed unhindered, "I'm as much a freak as I was there. Everyone's going to see that now."

"Wrong." Delphi trilled with surprising enthusiasm as she hopped up onto the desk beside him,

"Wh-What?"

"I said you're wrong, Harry Potter. Which is something you should be used to right now, you are friends with me and Hermione of course." She grinned teasingly but continued on when Harry's smile did not appear, and he still looked upon her in confusion, "You told me about the Dursley's, about your situation, and I can guarantee it will be nothing like that."

"How do you know?" Harry almost spat in his upset, eyes widening when Delphi reached over and cupped one of his cheeks in her hand and smiled a soft warm smile,

"Because we're here. And we won't let you be alone."

Harry was offered and accepted a hug from the girl, where he buried his head in her shoulder and drew comfort from her slow, soft caresses of her hair and silent comfort. The light fading as they sat on the duty desk in silence,

"Why would he be down here, Ron. It's forbidden." A familiar feminine voice, skeptical and unimpressed, breached the peace an unknown time later. Two pairs of echoing footsteps quickly headed their way,

"Which is exactly why he'd be down here." Another familiar voice, masculine and clearly worried. The light of a wand cutting through the twilights shadow, "Besides, technically this corridor isn't forbidden, it was only forbidden last year."

"Don't start talking about loopholes again, Ron, or _**I'LL**_ hit you."

Delphi and Harry slipped off of the desk as Ron and Hermione walked into view. Both pairs flinching and blinking away in irritation after being hit in the eyes by the lights from their wands.

When the group was finally able to look upon one another without being blinded a carpet of awkwardness settled thickly on the four of them. The boys locking eyes but without heat, only searchingly, both trying to find the words they needed to say to one another.

"Ron, look." Harry tried but Ron had other ideas,

"NO. I'm sorry. I was a prat." He said firmly, holding up a hand as he interrupted to ensure his words were heard, "You're my mate. I shouldn't be making you upset. I should be decking the people who are."

"We all know that you aren't the Heir of Slytherin." Hermione spoke up resolutely,

"And we'll find out who IS and kick their ass for dragging your name through the mud." Delphi declared forcefully, drawing Harry's wide eyes attention and echoed agreement from their two friends. Harry wiping away the fresh, happy tears that were forming and offering choked thanks under kind smiles.

.

* * *

.

The rest of Harry's week had been poor.

He was very used to his name being spoken, fingers and whispers directed at his back and whole groups of people making assumptions on to his character without having exchanged words with him once. But it did not mean he was comfortable with the increased volume of them, or the accusatory tone or malicious environment he found himself in whilst at school.

It wasn't dissimilar to the situation he had grown up in on Privet Drive. The Dursley's constantly pushing the narrative that he was a troubled thug of a boy that they had taken in out of the goodness of his heart. He had heard parents mutter and point as he walked the streets in his hand me downs, mothers drag their children away and order them to not associate with him, whilst all the while his cousin and friends taking great pleasure in mean name calling and beating him down in the knowledge that no one would come to his defence.

Harry had genuinely thought that coming to Hogwarts, the school of wizards and witches, a place where everyone was like him, that things would be different. But this whole situation actually led him to whole heartedly look forward to going to Ollivander's shop to get to work on that Monday evening.

Not to say he didn't want to go. He couldn't say his employment under Ollivander was a poor deal. It was, for the most part, a cleaning gig. The worst of which being when the old wandmaker would somehow fling a wand or ingredient into an entirely inconvenient location and Harry and/or Unyi would have to fish it out. When he had started, three months ago, Ollivander had made mention of a second duty to his employment, something regarding retrieving wand ingredients. But nothing had come from those throw away lines and Harry had simply let them fade into the back of his mind.

Ollivander and Fortescue's shops were great places to be, in summary. But Harry thought of Hogwarts as his home, and to not feel welcome there was a painful experience. Granted, the highlight of those past few days had been Ron receiving an evening detention for punching Roger Davies in the mouth for accusing Harry of the petrification's. That brought a smile to his face even as he approached the wand shop on the Monday evening,

"Good evening Unyi, Mr Ollivander." Harry called distractedly as he slipped into the ever-dimly lit wand shop. The bell above the door ringing his entry as he walked in, eyes on the ground as he remained in self-pitying thought.

"My! My! You are a cute one." Came a husky croon in Harry's ear, hot breath tickling it and his cheek, startling him and making him jolt away from the source with an unceremonious screech. Said reaction was accompanied by deep, amused and clearly feminine chuckle, "Oh yes, absolutely adorable."

Harry's eyes flew to the source, flying wide in wonder and surprise at the sight he was gifted to. The woman was far taller than him, all curves and sensuality as she stood in a skimpy… armour? Her outfit covering just enough to avoid incecency but showed enough skin to leave so very little to the imagination it was almost comical. Snow white hair falling to the full hips of her hourglass figure, where a pair of large wings were folded up patiently (the same shade of the hair). He pupiless eyes were red rubies, her face and skin blemish less, smiling mouth filled with pearly fangs beneath full red lips. Skin caramel brown, cleavage large, full and bouncing distractingly as she laughed, Harry too confused and awestruck that a being such as this could exist to be aroused or embarrassed,

'D-Demon?' Harry wondered in horror and confusion as his mind tried to comprehend what he had been presented with that evening.

"Wha- Where are Unyi and Mr Ollivander?" Harry quickly asked, quickly reaching to his hip holster. Eyes narrowing in a glare of fear and anger when she laughed harder,

"What if I said I'd eaten them, what would you do sweetheart?" She grinned evily as she leaned towards him, one hand steepled under her chin and a thin white eyebrow rising challengingly,

"I'm not here to play games, where are they?" He growled in response, hand gripping his wand as the amusement ramped up on her face,

"You should be careful with that." She whispered hotly.

Harry blinked, and she was gone. The most minute, portion of a second that his eyes were closed being the exact point when the dark skinned being disappeared altogether,

"What? Where?" Harry couldn't help but spit aloud as he straightened as his eyes flew left and right around the store. Harry turning a full 360 degrees in his hunt for the woman as he stepped back to the shops door.

Warmth. His back was greeted with the familiar warmth of another living being, Harry quickly deducing who it was.

Harry turned, wand swishing through the air and a spell on his lips as he did so, eyes finding the woman as his head turned, her wings and arms wide and a valiant grin splitting her face as he twirled.

A hand grabbed his wrist in an iron hard grip. Halting it and his wands movements as a single, thin finger was pressed firmly against his lips.

"I'm impressed." She crooned again, her hot sweet breath on her face as she leaned down to survey him in triumph, "Very few humans can react to me. Let alone one so young."

She drew her head past his face and towards his ear once again, taking a long audible sniff and stunning Harry into an audible flinch and whine of discomfort as a long, warm tongue ran up from the bottom of his cheek to the start of his hair,

"Although, something about you tastes just that bit… inhuman..." She almost whispered the final word, Harry (confused into silence by her odd sentence) doubted he would have even have heard her had she not been speaking from right next to his ear.

"That's good at the very least." She declared approvingly, her face withdrawing and finger sliding from his lips and pulling up his chin to look her in the face, "I think from that little display you will do just nicely. You'll be very good at this job of yours."

Harry's eyes flew wide as full lips crushed against his own, softness and warmth engulfed his smaller mouth as her hands cupped the back of his head and pulled him up and into her. His nose and tongue were assaulted by sweetness,

Something pressed against his lips, causing them to part in surprise and invite Druella to invade his mouth with her tongue. Mapping out the inside of his mouth and crushing his tongue under her own before she pulled away. A string of saliva connecting the two for a brief time as Harry gasped in wide eyed wonder as the lilim licked her lips and took soft breaths as she held the child against her chest,

"You taste sweet." She whispered huskily, smirking deeper as the boy's face reddened further and she felt a familiar warmth against her thigh. Harry's blushing when the hand on his waist pulled him in closer, her raised eyebrow making Harry aware that she could feel the tightness in his trousers.

Druella's smirk was knowing as her pale hand dove to his crotch and ensnared it in a single movement. Probing it with a grin as Harry shockingly recoiled at the suddenness of the action, flinching even further when the beings other hand snaked around to his backside to halt his escape as she gently squeezed and stroked. Giggling mirthfully at the boys gasping and red-faced squirming,

"Yes. I think you're going to be VERY good at this."

With a very sharp squeeze and another mirthful laugh, the warmth of the lilim was gone. Leaving Harry stumbling back onto the ground at the sudden loss of support as she had all but flung herself out of reach.

"Wand maker. Prepare the child however you see fit and have him on his task as soon as possible." Druella ordered with a dark look levied from someone behind Harry, the boy turning to find Ollivander at the counter. The old man's eyes slightly downcast but his stance firm, "For you to use a child to do your dirty work is truly despicable, even in the eyes of myself and her highness. But if it shall be this way then so be it."

The princesses blood red eyes fell to the still gasping boys face once more and, although she still found it humorous that such a pure child was to be the one to fulfill such a sordid task, her gaze softened at the red-faced child.

"Has the old man explained anything about what your job is?" She asked softly, going so far as to crouch down to approach the boys level with a quiet smile as his heartrate obviously settled and he rose to his knees,

"Err…" His response was noise as he looked back to the wandmaker in question who nodded, as if in permission, "He… Mr Ollivander mentioned something about getting ingredients."

Her smile was tight as she levelled a glare at Ollivander once more for drawing herself to her full height and staring down at the boy,

"I, child, am Druella. Princess and fourth heir to the throne of the Royal Makai and title of Demon Lord. Mine is a name you shall respect and fear from this day forth." She decreed as he quickly, but shakily, rose to his feet with disbelieving eyes, "I will be personally accompanying you on this occasion, and this occasion alone, to ensure you properly fulfill your duties."

"My… duties?" Harry's eyes fell to the floor in thought, the question hanging in the air unanswered in air before his eyes lit up in confusion as his face shot back up to Druella, "You're a princess? What even are you?"

He missed the wince from Ollivander (and Unyi, hidden behind the counter) at the insensitivity of his question, though Druella,

"I'm a Lilim, the highest sub-species of succubi, sweetheart." She explained with a gentle grin and tone, "We're unfortunately on a time scale thus I cannot demonstrate what it is that our species is so well known for. But when we next meet I'll be sure to pull you aside and give you a proper demonstration."

She allowed herself a giggle, he may not have any comprehension of what her or her species was, but he was somewhat aware of the innuendo in her words as she spoke in deliberately husky tone with a seductive grin. This child was pure, but only just it seemed. She cursed the Heavens that it was not her who would be corrupting him,

'He would make a sweet little pet, or husband even.'

"Ollivander." Her tone immediately settled into a no-nonsense tone that Harry quietly likened to Professor McGonagall as she addressed the wandmaker again, Harry turning to see the man unflinchingly meet her gaze, "The key."

Ollivander stepped around the counter, sweeping a small silver chest from the counter as he strode around the wooden counter and gently offered the box to the princesses outstretched hand, the woman taking the box and quietly peering within after opening it with a loud snap of her fingers. Harry tried to gain a look inside, but she snapped it shut with a satisfied smirk before he could, turning to the door without a word,

"Come along my little sweetheart. We have places to be." She supplied as her hand grasped the golden doorknob,

"I'm not going anywhere with you." Harry managed to spit out in response, flinching when a furious glint flashed across her ruby eyes and she lunged after she turned back to him. Scooping his wrists together in that same firm grip and hauling him off of the ground with glorious strength and a single arm,

"You haven't an option, sweetheart." She growled, dragging his face up to hers again as he struggled. His wand dropped to the ground as he was made brutally aware of the sharp points her teeth had been filed to and the true terror of her red, pupil-less gaze, "I may not have done anything to your employer and friend over there. But it would be so easy to that it is the furthest thing from humorous."

He was dropped. Harry hitting the floor harshly with pain lancing up his spine before he shuffled back. His hand eventually fell upon a familiar wooden object, warmth flowing up through him and spells flying through his mind as he searched for some way to retaliate,

"Mr Potter." Ollivander disrupted his thoughts and causing Harry to turn to face him, finding a gentle knowing look on the wrinkled face, "You have nothing to fear. Her majesty will not harm you, you will simply be accompanying her to retrieve some dragons heartstrings."

His tone was comforting and the instinct that ruled Harry's being all but screamed that he was to be trusted. Even though his brain said otherwise.

"Indeed, Mr Potter. So, do quell that fire in you for a while." Druella continued for the wand maker, drawing Harry's suspicious attention, where he found a teasing grin splitting her face, "You'll need all that energy and passion for when you face the dragon zombie."

Harry's suspicious glare fell away,

"The what?"

.

* * *

 **.**

 **Just to make things clear, the HP story takes place in the 1990's. So, the Demon Lord in this story has been ruling for nearly 100 years. I know this may seem a bit redundant but just wanted to make sure that was clear with everyone reading.**

 **Also: /w/Druella for anyone who would like to put a picture to the description of the new character (for those who don't already know who she is).**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Someone: Who uploads a Fanfiction chapter at 4am?_**

 ** _Me: OH BOY! 4AM!_**

 **Spartan3909: Thanks again x**

 **DRAGONDAVE45: I'm glad you like it, but to answer your question yes he is 12 and no he probably shouldn't be in these situations. But there's a bit more to all of this…**

 **And to the first Guest review, this story IS in the right section. Unfortunately, Fanfiction does not have a system that allows you to market a story as a crossover of more than two works. As such, I put it in HP (obviously) and the Monster Musume categories as they are the most relevant. This is a three-way crossover with MGE characters and settings included.**

 **Then to the second one, I'm also bored of the whole 'everybody in Harry's life is evil' trope that is prevalent through fanfiction. But at the same time, whilst I was planning this the voice in my head went, "Yo! Why don't we give Harry back his parents, but have them want nothing to do with him?" Thus, this. Though, if by main plot you mean the other story then I haven't, I'm just re-polishing my writing because I didn't covey or do things as well as I would have liked.**

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 **A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:**

 **Chapter 7**

Tuesday morning brought Transfiguration for the second year Gryffindor's and Ravenclaw's at 9am. The students dragging themselves into the classroom with various exclamations of excitement or fatigue, books and parchment quickly yanked from their bags after seats were taken.

Register was taken, unimpressed glares were given by their professor when talking didn't cease, then the lesson began after silence was achieved.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked Ron after McGonagall began her explanation of that lessons spell, stunning her friend over the studious girl daring to speak when a teacher was talking,

"Beats me. He didn't come back to the dorm last night, and his bed was empty this morning." Ron replied quietly, his quill scribbling notes that Hermione's glancing eye immediately recognized as having nothing to do with what their Professor was saying about the

"Well then where is he?" Hermione hissed, almost furious that Ron could just state something like that as if there was nothing wrong with that,  
"If I knew where he was I would have told you when you asked me 'Where's Harry?', Hermione." Ron responded flatly. Rewarded with a vicious elbow to the side that made him yelp a bit louder than either of them would have liked.

"Is there a problem you two?" Their professors tone was severe as she straightened her spectacles on her nose and glared through them at them,

"Hmm…" she hummed in what was clearly a tone that absolutely did not believe them. Her dark eyes turned from the guilty pair to the vacant seat next to Ron that he was keeping clear by dropping his bag upon it, "I also notice that your little trio is a man short."

Eyes turned to the empty chair and there were a few quiet whispers about his absence and one Ravenclaw decided to rise above with a loud, snarky tone,

"Suspicious that the night after another person is petrified, Potter is nowhere to be seen." Terry Boot declared, greeted with a few quiet murmurs of how suspicious it truly was before Ron slammed his fist loudly against his own table and glaring over at the surprised (and somewhat afraid) Boot from across the room.

"Do you want to say that again, Boot? I'll knock your teeth out." Ron growled, rising to his feet and leaning an open hand on his desk as he leaned over it in Boot's direction. The Ravenclaw putting on an admirable brave face from his position a desk across but frightfully aware that Weasley was very willing and capable of causing damage if he got his hands on him,

"Sit down Mr Weasley. Now." She insisted firmly after she was ignored by the redhead initially. Ron quietly slipping back into his seat whilst still glaring murderously over at the boy, Hermione's glare less strong but not at all pleasant either, "Five points for threatening a student's Weasley. Now, we will continue without any further interruptions."

The door slammed open and a panting Harry fell through. Stumbling and nearly barreling into Lavender and Parvati's table.

"S-Sorry I'm late professor!" He gasped out, straightening up and fiddling with his robes as he nudged the classroom door closed,

"What time do you call this, Mr Potter? You are fifteen minutes late." McGonagall's hands found her hips as she glared unimpressed at his tardiness, "Ten points from Gryffindor."

"I'm sorry Professor, I slept through my alarm." Harry meekly responded and quietly shuffled to his seat under several pairs of eyes,

"Be sure it doesn't become a habit, Mr Potter." She ordered gruffly before turning back to the chalkboard and continuing as if nothing had happened,

"Hey, where were you last night mate?" Ron whispered to his friend as soon as he sat down, dragging away his bag to give Harry his seat,

"I got back from work at about 4 this morning?" Harry almost groaned as he fell limply into his chair,  
"4am?!" Hermione hissed, shrinking away with a blush when McGonagall glared at the brunette from over her shoulder,

"Yeah, Mr Ollivander had me out collecting dragon heartstrings for a wand he was making." Harry murmured as he rolled out parchment and dipped the nib of his quill in his inkwell. Quickly pushing his round spectacles up his nose and stifling a yawn as he furiously wrote out the boards contents,

"As in from some shop?" Ron asked in confusion,

"No. I had to go to an actual dragon." Harry's response in the negative,

"A live one?!" Hermione gasped again, louder than the boys but not loud enough to draw attention to herself again,

"My brother Charlie works with them in Romania. Doesn't really tell me much about em though. Says it's just like working in a zoo, whatever that means." Ron muttered away as Harry wrote, missing his tired friends almost downcast demeanor as excitement blossomed over his face, "What was that like."

Harry's quill paused, his body went still. The two friends noticed his face morph from pale to furious scarlet almost instantly before he violently shook his head and stammered out,

"I-I don't want to talk about it!" Leaving them confused for the remainder of the lesson at his blushing refusal to speak about it.

* * *

[FLASH]

 _Waves rushed weathered stone, violent crashes marking the impact of the choppy waters with the unmovable stone. Cliffs slammed by a violent tide as the sun set and darkness lethargically settled upon the scenery._

 _A crack marked the arrival of two individuals on a rocky outcrop at the foot of the cliffs, high enough to stand above the roiling waves and the top splatter with foamy spray. Druella and Harry standing on the peak of the rocky fang with the latter swaying in nausea from the effects of his first Apparation._

" _Eugh, w-what was that?" Harry groaned aloud, looking up at the one who had grabbed his wrist and brought him somewhere far from where he had been,_

" _It's how you wizards and witches get around, sweetheart. You'll be doing it yourself one day." She smiled sweetly down upon him as her white hair was wafted and thrown in the heavy wind. Harry clutched at his roiling stomach and shook his head, doubting that incredibly, "Tell me when you're ready to move on."_

" _We're not doing that again, are we?" Harry whined and was greeted with a hearty laugh over the wind,_

" _No sweetheart, we're going swimming."_

 _Harry looked up at her grinning face in wide eyed disbelief, then over the edge to the choppy waters of the sea,_

" _In THAT?!" Harry spat incredulous,_

" _Indeed."_

" _To where."_

" _Only to there."_

 _Harry followed her pointing finger, rubbing the spray from his glasses as he peered out and vaguely made out the mouth of a cave set into the cliff face. Leaning forward to get a better look before he heard a sarcastic,_

" _Whoops!" And received a sharp kick to the backside. The sharp force enough to send him hurtling with a scream off of the rock and down the foot gap to the icy water below._

 _Cold lanced through his entire body on impact and the boy desperately kicked for the surface. Dragged forward by the water even as his head broke free and he spat out the globules of water he had dragged in, coughing and gasping as his legs and arms worked furiously to keep him afloat. His eyes searched for Druella, his head attempting to turn back to the rock he'd dropped from but the waves throwing him back around whenever he tried. His energy better expended keeping him floating and angling himself towards the large and more visible cave entrance he was rapidly approaching._

 _The waters became instantly calmer as soon as he crossed the threshold, his waterlogged trainers quickly dragging along and finding purchase in gravelly ground beneath the water. Allowing him to hop and push off before eventually standing with the water up to his wait. Stumbling somewhat in fatigue from the ebb and flow of the sea water._

 _Harry looked around in wet confusion and anger, the light of the outside world illuminating the arced walls and ceilings, giving the cave the feeling of being some sort of elaborate entrance. Turning away from the light of twilight he found the edge of the cave in sight, a stony beach drenched in shadow, with Druella standing waiting, back to him as she examined a wall. Angrily he waded over._

" _W-What the hell was that?" Harry growled his question through chattering teeth, drenched and shivering after having hauled himself out of the roiling water and onto the stony shore, waiting somewhat impatiently as the princess tapped the wall and hummed in intrigue and amusement._

 _She looked over her shoulder and wafted a hand at him. A wave of warm air rushed over him and instantly (from his hair to his toes) he was dry and warm again. He made no move to vocalise his appreciation and continued to look at her mad. She turned away and continued to examine the wall, tapping her fingertips against the smooth stone with quiet hums of curiosity._

" _It would appear, some dark wizard has hidden some treasure ON TOP of the treasure we're seeking." She eventually spoke as she drew her long, sharp nails across the seemingly mundane rock of the cliff face with an irritated sigh, "This is slightly more effort than I expected to expend."_

 _Druella's careful hand rose to her lips, said rose red mouth parting as it approached with fangs snapping forth to breach the skin and let small pearls of crimson pool upon her the smooth skin of her thumb. A quick swipe wiped the blood against the stone wall of the cavern, a quiet quake shaking the ground in response._

" _A weakness payment, huh?" she muttered around her thumb as she sucked up the blood from the wound and glared at the slowly forming door in the cave's wall, "How crude and uninventive."_

 _Harry watched in awe as a thin wooden door appeared and the shaking softly receded, leaving the cave almost silent again, the lapping of the water now muted in the face of the display. Druella quietly yanked it open and ushered Harry inside. Harry stunned when the tip of her finger lit up and she softly intoned,_

" _Lumos Maxima." And jabbed her hand through the doorway. Harry covered his eyes as it rushed past, seeing the little light from the tip of her finger pulse and grow into a into a large orb of bright white light that flew up to the caves ceiling and hung suspended like a mini-sun._

 _They stood on a dusty, sandy shore in a second cave, the walls and roof so far from sight that they were invisible. The light of the orb in the air was reflected on the completely still and undisturbed lake that dominated the majority of the cave, also reflecting a dimmer, smaller emerald green light located on an island in the dark distance._

 _Harry's foot hit something hard and metal and his eyes fell onto a long thick chain lying like a slumbering snake in the dust. Thicker than Harry's arms and snaking under the water and into the depths._

" _Inferi, how ironic." Druella's unimpressed tone returned as she spoke again, her nostrils turned up in disgust as she stared onto the sheet of water as she dropped down for a brief moment and arose with a large rock in hand,_

" _Inferi?"_

" _Do you know what a zombie is, sweetheart?" Druella's voice became an almost condescending crooning, as if she were speaking to a small child. Harry bristled and Druella laughed,_

" _Yes. I do." He spoke firmly._

" _Good. That lake's full of them." Druella smiled a toothy grin as she stepped and slipped behind him. The arm that held the thick stone reared back and hurled it out over the water whilst her second hand slapped against his back and shoved him towards the shore, "Deal with them for me."_

 _The rock arched beautifully through the air as Harry stumbled, whacking into the still water with a mighty, echoing SPLASH that elicited an immediate response._

 _The response being the hands that breached the surface, white, wet and bloated. The water, as still clear and tranquil as a black mirror was instantly tremulous and a dozen upon dozen hands ripped free of the water and clawing at the distant ceiling as they kicked, floated and rose to the surface._

 _Moans, grunts and splutters echoed off of the distant walls as countless cold, wet corpses splashed to towards Harry and the shore. Harry stepped back in terror, eyes turning back to Druella searchingly, desperate to find out what they were going to do._

 _But she was gone._

 _Harry stopped moving. Eyes wide and disbelieving as they took in the location that the succubi princess had been standing. Looking behind him to the door, only to find that it was gone to. Thus, he turned, heart hammering harshly and breathing increasing as the first few of the corpses dragged themselves out of the water and towards the panicking, lonely boy._

" _D-Diffindo!" Harry cried out, slashing his wand through the air at the first trio that stamped along with squelching footsteps. The spell Malfoy had used on him on his lips quicker than he could think,_

 _Nothing happened. The Inferi crawling and ragging themselves across the ground in a frenzied pace towards his steadily retreating frame._

" _DIFFINDO!" Harry screamed, the vicious wand movement hurting his arm, but the familiar rush of power signaled the spells effectiveness. Magic whipping from the wand tip and bisecting a trio of the shambling corpses, the wet thumps of their bodies dropping giving him a brief moment of triumph. Before they twitched and kicked on the ground, still clawing for him, and the others crawled and stepped over the fallen parts._

" _Diffindo! Diffindo! DIFFINDO!" Once, twice, thrice. Harry shouted the cutting spell again. The wet cave floor littered with equally drenched corpse pieces that twitched and reached in ravenous undeath. Not at all defeated and the wizard casting away tiring faster than he could comprehend. Panic begetting panic as every other spell failed, leaving him panting without a single blow being struck against the literal wall of the undead bearing down upon his rapidly retreating self. Their skin white and nearly translucent as blue and black veins crisscrossed beneath it, their clothes (little more than water logged rags) hanging limp from emaciated forms. Sunken eyes stared unblinking, toothless gums clammed together and apart, moans and whines choked past decomposed throats whilst water gushed from wide mouths (and other orifices)._

 _Harry gasped as they drew close enough to reach. His back slammed into the stone wall where the door had once been, his head turning to it in horror before returning to the many pairs of glassy eyes that looked upon him, unseeing._

" _D…Diffin-"_

 _Their hands were cold as ice as they grabbed hold. A large burly claw of a hand snagged his face, covering his mouth and nose midway through the incantation whilst others grabbed his arm and squeezed the wand from his grasp in their vicious death grip._

 _Then they pulled. Dragged him into their mob, jostling, shambling and pulling him from all directions. More hands grabbed hold, squeezing his throat, dragging his hair, pulling his feet out from under him by snatching out his ankles. Their strength kept Harry from screaming and halted his struggles to a mere pathetic wiggle in their embrace. Harry desperately tried to pull in breath but found himself entirely unable as they continued to pull and shove, their destination clear even to their victim._

 _The water…_

 _Harry was submerged again for the second time that evening, the water seeping past the grasping hand on his face and filling his mouth and throat despite vain attempts to push it forth,_

' _Not like this.' Harry's panicked thought to himself as he was dragged far beneath the water, his glasses crushed and cracking against his face as his eyes watched the light of Druella's spell splutter out and plunge him into blindness. The only sensations the hands upon his body and the movement of the water around him as he was pulled deeper. No sight, no sound. His tongue numb and tasteless as the frosty water aided the Inferi in choking him._

 _Harry thrashed. Pulling and yanking against the corpses dragging him to the floor. Able to pull his right arm free and throw a slow, useless punch at the huge body cupping his face. No effect gained even as he repeated the action thrice more._

 _They hit the lake bed with a thud, a tangled heap of cold wet bodies. With strength Harry did not know he possessed, he prised the hand from his face and gasped in an easy gallon of water as_

 _His hand reached for a surface he could not see. For all intents and purposes, it could be gone. Having abandoned him to his watery fate just as Druella had. He reached and pulled and thrashed, head light and eyes drooping shut, even as more arms encircled him. His eyes finally shutting and his resistance dying as they pulled the arm down to join them. The Inferi grasping and molding themselves around their latest prey as his mind's eye settled once on the castle he called home and the friends he was leaving within._

 _Consciousness fading then spluttering out like a candle._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _"Mmm, not once did you call my name. I was certain you'd beg for help..."_

 _A violent splash echoed through the cave as an explosion rocked from beneath the water, light returning in an instant. The force of the blast cleaving the water away from the epicenter with a second pulse of light emanating from the blast and holding the droplets of the water hanging in the damp air as well as the confused and displaced Inferi (or what was left of them) who had been where the blast was._

 _Standing, proudly, in the slightly scorched centre of the carnage, Druella. Her precious sweetheart limp but alive in her arms as she drew herself to her full height and glared mischievously at the disturbed Inferi. Quick to gather their wits and lunge from the waves to reclaim their prize and destroy their latest victim._

 _Fire danced prettily across a hand she freed from under Harry, a glance of appreciation spared to the red flickering in her grasp before she wafted her arm to the side, laying waste to the assembled beings with a smile on her face and a boy on her arm…_

[FLASH]

* * *

The days task was a continuation of a previous lesson from the week prior, back before the debacle in the dueling club where their Transfiguration professor had revealed the nature and alleged contents of the fabled Chamber of Secrets. This lesson devoted on turning rats into tea cups.

"These things are gross." Ron looked down upon the sniffing twitching rodent that had appeared before him in unrestrained distain, "We used to have these in the cellar at home. Mum said that one would make a cute pet. Imagine that?"

"You and a pet rat?" Harry raised an eyebrow at the image and shook his head, "You hate them way too much. There's no way you'd ever take care of it."

"Damn right I wouldn't. I'd rather die." Ron declared hotly with crossed arms as he glared down at the rat again, Harry and Hermione regarding theirs with less venom,

"I really am not comfortable with this." Hermione lamented quietly as she raised her wand. The object swishing unhurriedly through the air as she spoke the words for the spell and was rewarded with a tea cup adorned with bright blue leafy branches. Her trepidation lost in the wake of her triumph.

Harry attempted it next alongside Ron. The former paying close attention to the movement of his wand as the Latin rolled past his lips, the two boys completing the spell at the same time with differing effects.

There was a change in Ron's rat. It morphed and folded into the appropriate shape but retained almost all of its rat like qualities. The cup covered in thin grey hair and the pink, wormlike tail arching over to form the handle. Ron tried to grin at the display but, after looking over to Hermione's, simply scowled at the failure and elected to try again with a,

"Finite Incantatum."

In Harry's case, nothing happened. He believed himself to have spoken the words perfectly and moved correctly but nothing happened.

He scowled and did it again. Failure. Again… Nothing. He said the spell and steadily moved his wand over and over (movement becoming choppier and clumsier with each attempt), his eyes steadily widening and his breath morphing into hollow, angry gasps.

Ron and Hermione glanced over in concern, their worry trebling as they saw the almost terrified look on Harry's face as he viciously moved his wand and glared down at the rodent. But he wasn't seeing a rat looking mournfully up at him. He saw glassy eyes and pale translucent skin, he wanted to vomit as he panickedly spat out the spell again.

"Jeez Harry, chill out." Ron tried but flinched when Harry's teeth ground together and his hand tightened into a fist around his wand.

He intoned it again and slammed his wand hand to the table in anger when it once again failed. The rat and his friends jumping in fright at the display as Harry's breathing became heavy and his eyes glimmered with hot tears. Harry glaring down at the shuddering rodent with a look of malice and hate as his entire body shook in its seat and McGongall swept across the classroom in concern.

"Just change into a cup!" Harry hissed at his rat, teeth gritted in rage and his wand jabbed aggressively at the quivering rodent.

People stiffened and started (including Hermione and Ron) and they turned horrified to the Boy Who Lived as the cold, aggressive hissing of Parseltongue echoed through the room.

But none were more surprised by the development than Harry himself. Not at all because he had spoken in sibilant hisses…

But because his rat had transfigured perfectly into a pristine white porcelain tea cup with a swirling red flower pattern around its lip…

.

* * *

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Tuesday morning, 9am, saw the second year Slytherin's and Hufflepuffs settling into their shared Charms class as they patiently awaited the diminutive Charms Professor, Professor Flitwick.

Delphi yawned and allowed a steady scowl to split across her face as she surveyed the room, quickly taking in the somber attitude and the absence of Zacharias Smith of the Hufflepuffs.

"Heard Smith got petrified last night." Came the high-pitched whisper of Pansy Parkinson as Delphi slipped into her usual seat in the back corner. Her eyes firmly down in her bag as she searched for her quills and parchment, but her ears keenly tuned in to the conversation of Pansy, Daphne and Tracey in the row in front,

"Do you really think it could have been Potter?"

"That pathetic Lion? No." Pansy snorted, nose turned up even as her usually giggling friends twitched and shuffled uneasily,

"W-Well there is that rumour…" Tracey murmured, drawing Daphne's vigorous nod and Pansy's arced eyebrow,

"What rumour?"

"That Potter was the one who killed Quirrel last year." Daphne answered, her whisper barely that as Delphi had no issue hearing her as she unscrewed the bottle of her ink, "And he's clearly related to Slytherin somehow, or he wouldn't be a Parseltongue."

"Wha- really?" Pansy hissed out in almost horror,

"Yeah, maybe Potter is one of those psychopaths?" Tracey spoke up in a worried tone which made Delphi snort and forced her to butt in,

"Maybe you shouldn't bad mouth him behind his back then." Delphi spoke up, smirking as they stiffened and turned, "The walls have ears and all that."

The trio glared and Delphi returned the pathetic girls gesture.

"Maybe you shouldn't be brown nosing up to Gryff's, mudbloods and blood traitors, Rowle." Pansy responded,

"I wouldn't if my own house offered intelligent conversation and good company." Delphi sighed, leaning against her hand and levelling bored purple eyes on the miffed girl, "But it's rich to be accused of brown nosing from the girl who literally kisses the ass of our houses largest ponce."

They clearly didn't appreciate that comment, only turning their murderous glares away when Flitwick drew attention to himself at the front of the class.

...

It had been violent, and her attackers had left with less hair and visible scratches and bruises on their faces and arms, but Delphi found herself in the second-floor girls toilets gasping for air ten minutes after the lessons end. The trio dragging her there to shove her head in the toilet and,

"Teach ME respect." Delphi spat venomously as she wrung out her drenched hair, a glance around eventually finding her wand with her discarded bag outside the cubicle. Glaring down at the porcelain throne in quiet distain before she rose to unsteady feet, "One day, you shits."

She winced when she got out of the cubicle and to the nearest mirror, drying and cleaning herself off with a wave of the wand. What little makeup she had sparingly applied had been ruined and run off, the majority likely running through the pipes after those many flushes.

"That looked dreadful." A voice surprised Delphi, making her jump as she turned quickly, blasting a Stinging Hex in the direction of the voice and hearing a squeal before a loud smash of shattering tiles, "THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR!"

The shouting drew the Slytherin's attention to the speaker, a dark haired girl floating by the ceiling between the two rows of cubicles, dressed in faded Ravenclaw robes.

More accurately, a ghost girl, floating by the ceiling. Translucent and glowing a soft blue as she bobbed softly in the air as she glared down at her wood be attacker. Delphi's hex having passed through her spiritual form and smashing into the wall behind her,

"S-Sorry. I mistook you for Pansy or one of her idiots." Delphi apologized slowly as she placed a hand over her racing heart. Somewhat pleased that the spectral girl seemed to lighten up quickly,

"That's okay. I wish I'd have had to confidence to attack my bullies back when I was alive." The girl sighed wistfully, nudging a pair of circular glasses up her nose and fiddling with her long dark pigtails before smiling as she looked Delphi's way, "You're an inspiration."

Delphi offered quiet, unsure gratitude,

"I died in that cubicle you know?" The ethereal girl jabbed a finger to the stall she had just exited after an awkward silence,

"That's… tragic."

"Isn't it?!" She responded with way too much enthusiasm, losing Delphi even more, "Anyway, my name's Myrtle. Myrtle Warren. But people usually just call me 'Moaning Myrtle', the bullies called me that when I was alive too."

"I'm Delphi Rowle." She greeted in response, eyebrow's knitting together in question as a spark of recognition flashed across her pail translucent face,

"Hey, are you Euphie Rowle's daughter? Or I guess granddaughter? She must be ANCIENT by now!" She asked with passion, her hands gripping her skirt and grinning broadly, getting her answer when Delphi's eyes narrowed, "Oh you are, aren't you! My, I never thought stuck up Euphie would ever have a baby."

"She didn't." Delphi spat, arms crossing as she glared a hole into the floor, "She's my foster parent. She made that fact VERY clear as I was growing up."

Delphi was surprised at the sound of Myrtle kissing her teeth and saw the ghost girl roll her eyes,

"50 years on and that hag is still an insufferable bitch." She heard the ghost girl mutter before her hands flew to her mouth and an odd blue blush tainted her pale cheeks, "I'm sorry, she's your guardian, that was inappropriate!"

Delphi laughed. The toilet incident forgotten for the moment as she laughed at her odd situation, laughing at a blushing ghost who had bad mouthed her foster mum,

"You're not wrong. She's really the worst." Delphi sighed after the laughter subsided to a few giggles, leaning heavily against the sinks, "I mean, what kind of bitch tells a little girl that she's only living with them because she's being paid to take care of them."

"She said that?!"

"Yeah. On my seventh birthday." Delphi muttered bitterly, "Told me my mum was some rich, big wig who paid her to take care of me before she went to prison."

Myrtle's eyes widened as Delphi's narrowed. Her arms crossed over her chest as she relived the shambles of that morning.

[FLASH]

" _I get paid just enough to tolerate your hideous presence you awful girl." She had spat from the kitchen island as she twirled a steaming coffee cup in her hands, the aged woman glaring down at her as Delphi tugged at the skirt of her floral summer dress, "I'm not spending my hard-earned money on something as pathetic and juvenile as a birthday present on a girl who'll meet a sticky end anyway."_

 _The augury had squawked in its cage in response before Delphi had been dismissed from the kitchen with a cuff to the ear. Biting back tears as she scurried away._

[FLASH]

"I think it goes without saying that you keep that little tidbit to yourself." Delphi spoke up with a glare of warning to the phantom, Myrtle holding up her hands placatingly before quickly insisting,

"I won't say a word."

"Good. I have only told one of my friends this anyway, I have no idea why I admitted it to you of all people." Delphi murmured, quickly adding on a, "No offense."

"Hey, you're one of Harry Potter's friends. Aren't you?" Myrtle quickly replied in a quick tone. Smirking when "You told him, didn't you? I watch him sometimes when he's in the bathrooms, isn't he dreamy?"

Myrtle's tone and gaze became distant and wistful once more whilst the words sunk in for

"Why… would you think I told Harry?"

"You've both got that look in your eyes. Like you've both had it rather rough before arriving here. I assumed you'd have confided in one another." Myrtle mused pinching her chin between her fingers as she hummed in thought, before she turned her gaze to Delphi with

Delphi smiled, it wasn't a happy one, but the bittersweet feelings pooling in her chest curled up her lips against her will.

"Can I visit here again?" Delphi's smile brightened as Myrtle did,

"Sure thing, new friend. Come visit me as much as you want."

And Delphi waved. Scooping up her things and scurrying out of the bathroom to the dungeons. She took the dark look from Snape and the 5 point reduction in her stride as she slipped over to the bubbling cauldron that Harry was mechanically maintaining.

"What's up with you?" Delphi asked softly after her friends quiet greeting and gentle probing as to her lateness. He just shook his head and offered her a weak grin in reply,

"N-Nothing." He said at first, staring down into the bubbling potion once again, "Just thinking about how awful drowning is."

Delphi looked over in concern before sighing and nodding in agreement, the memory of toilet water making her queasy as she reached for the boomslang skin,

"Yeah..."

* * *

.

[FLASH]

 _Harry awoke with a vicious gasp in a woman's lap. Initially flailing until his arms were pinned and a soft, soothing voice calmed his nerves._

 _All until he recognized the speaker._

" _Let go of me!" Harry snarled, yanking himself free and rolling away from Druella, turning to glare at the woman whose silhouette was framed by that eerie green light Harry had noted before on the distant island (said island being his and her current location),_

" _My, how rude!" She tutted and shook her head, "Is this how you thank the people who saved your life?!"_

" _You're the one who put me in danger in the first place." Harry snarled in rage, hand searching surreptitiously for a wand he could not find as his anger forced out his words, "You don't get to try and kill me off and then call yourself a hero for not following through."_

 _Druella laughed. But it wasn't the teasing amused giggle from earlier that evening, this laugh was high, cold and haughty. Echoing harshly through the cavern and slashing through his ears like glass knives._

" _Sweetheart... If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't still be breathing." She breathed, red eyes bearing into his with a frightening pressure and intensity._

 _Harry felt fear, but fear was not something he liked to dwell on. Being afraid made him jumpy, he made poor decisions when afraid, so he found the emotion and choked it out. Choosing to remain furious instead of scared, glaring as Druella's eyebrows arched curiously. The succubi saying nothing as she rolled to her feet and brushed off her legs in complete indifference, quietly watching Harry all the while before she jerked her head in a motion to come over._

 _Despite himself, Harry found himself walking over without a word._

 _The green light that Harry had beheld when he entered the room was before him when Druella stepped aside, the source revealed. A stone basin raised above the uneven stony ground at the apex of a small incline from the shore, the jade green potion within, unmoved by the soft wind that blew through the cavern, the source of the clear unnerving light._

" _What is that?"_

" _The final trap. A potion that causes pain to whomever drinks it." Druella answered grimly, staring down at it in intrigue, "It cannot be parted or disturbed and hides the dark wizards great treasure beneath it."_

 _Harry looked to her in surprise before eyeing the basin in wonder,_

" _So, if you wanted the treasure… you'd have to drink it?"_

" _Precisely, sweetheart." Druella trilled cheerily as Harry turned unimpressed eyes to her,_

" _I'm not drinking it." He flatly stated, eyes narrowing as she laughed loudly, once again reaching for his wand holster and blanching as he found it empty,_

" _Here you go, my darling." She spoke knowingly and offered a familiar piece of holly wood to him. Harry taking it with numb hands and sighing in audible relief and rapture as it sung warmly in his grasp, missing the succubi's knowing gentle grin, "And don't worry. It's in neither of our best interests that you drink it, sweetheart. We're not here for that… thing."_

 _Harry turned his attention away from his precious wand with a raised eyebrow, forgetting his initial anger at the woman as his curiosity was flamed. The tone which she had elected to use for 'thing' one of the highest disgust, returning Harry's attention to the glowing basin,_

" _What's in it?" Harry pointed to the basin in indication and Druella's eyes (which had now returned to the potion) narrowed in loathing,_

" _I do believe I may be wrong, as I do believe that the knowledge of how to split one's soul was lost with Herpo the Foul hundreds of years ago. But it appears to be a Horcrux."_

" _What's a-"_

" _A foul way for a mortal to achieve immortality by murdering people and splitting their souls." Druella interrupted quickly, but disinterested. Harry jumping as her hands lit up in roaring red flames as she glared, "It doesn't matter. We're not here for it, we're here for what's under it. So, we'll destroy it so it's out of our way."_

 _And she torched the basin. Harry hopping aside as twin streams of searing fire erupted from her palms and engulfed the potion and stone instantly. Harry quickly covering his eyes at the sudden burst of light and heat, flicking his eyes over his shoulder in terror as he backed far too close to the black water,_

" _Be calm, sweetheart. I killed them all." She said, as an unholy scream of agony erupted from the basin's direction. Smiling sweetly as she effortlessly snuffed out the light of the potion and murdered whatever was under it._

' _Magic is terrifying.' Harry thought, feeling ill and not the least bit grateful._

 _A full minute of fire ended with a flourish of her wrists, the cavernous cave immediately dimmer before the succubi fired off another 'Lumos Maxima' and grinned a toothy grin. Pointing to where the basin had been, nought left but black scorch,_

" _See anything?"  
"Not anymore." Harry murmured without humour as he looked. Druella giggled, sidling up next to Harry and throwing an arm over his shoulder, the boy tensing fearfully under her warm grasp as she directed him over,_

" _Look at that." She ordered as she jabbed a finger to the floor, Harry's eyes falling to the blackened stone and searching for anything…_

" _You mean… that?" Harry found the discrepancy. The blood red, five-pointed star contained within a perfect circle firmly part of the grey stone of the ground where the pedestal had been._

 _A blink of the eye and it was gone. The symbol, then the island, then the water and the cave. A sharp hooking feeling in Harry (and Druella's) navel the only indication that something was happening until they surveyed their new surroundings._

" _Wh-What the?!"_

 _The hilly island they had stood upon was now a mountain. A mountain of silver coins that shimmered under a shaft of white moonlight. The cavern had become some kind of vault, holes in the high ceiling, supported by huge obelisks of black stone. The surroundings, for what appeared to be miles upon miles for the two of them, were stacked with nothing more than gold, silver and glimmering jewels. The only sounds, beside the pairs quiet breathing, being the rushing tinkering of thin streams of moving coins and the echoing of heavy snorts and exhales. Harry's eyes desperately roving the moonlit horde for its source._

 _And then he saw it, a pair of tattered, leathery wings folding over the sea of golden coins. Gigantic, shuddering and slowly rising and falling somewhat, as coins and trinkets rolled about, in what Harry assumed was either the quiet breathing of slumber or the slow twitches of oncoming wakefulness. Harry looked up at Druella in apprehensive question and was met with a smug grin and a viciously, playful glint in her scarlet gaze,_

" _Welcome to the crypt of Lumaria…"_

[FLASH]

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 **Jesus this one turned out long (teehee)**

 **I was going to write the next bit as well, but decided to spare you the massive chapter (as in not giving you 10,000 words and instead only 6,000, how generous of me...)**

 **Bye bye for now x**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks once again to starboy454 and Spartan3909 x**

 **DRAGONDAVE45: RIGHT?! Could you imagine? How would regular girls even compare after THIS was your puberty? ;)**

 **And to them Guest reviewer, I'm sorry again for being a bit snippy with you. I didn't really mean to but sorry if it cam across that way. I hope you enjoy the story as we continue :)**

 **BIG WARNING! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT NSFW MATERIAL (** _ **which will be highlighted when it appears in the chapter**_ **). READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.**

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 **A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:**

 **Chapter 8**

Lumaria was a dragon of the sea. A proud monster, multiple centuries old, raining fire and death upon all who could and all who dared cross her path, whether in peace or war. As had been the way under the previous demon lord. But all had changed when SHE had risen to the throne. When the rule of Luxuria had replaced the Ira, lust and cupidity replacing the primal wrath filled instincts of all monsters in existence.

Many of the monsters and beings that the Demon Lord called her subjects opposed these changes, powerless to halt them as they steamrolled across reality but adamantly and firmly against them.

Lumaria was one of them.

She was a creature of fire and death. Wizards and muggles alike feared her in droves yet stood powerless to halt her rampages. Fire piercing and crushing their shields of iron and magic. Their spells and magic bouncing off her scarlet armour of mighty scales, their own armour and defence crumbling under the sharpness and force of her mighty maw and its many razor teeth.

Mortals were pathetic. Ants beneath her, a dragon. She was at the height of the food chain, one of the most powerful of monsters. She took what she pleased, filling her horde and eviscerating all arrogant enough to lay claim to it.

But with the rise of the new Demon Lord, and the advancement of her beliefs and territory, there came a shift within her. A very minute shift in her perception of her usual prey, the humans, that completely altered the way her life would be lead from that day forth.

A desire to be with them. To become one with them.

To bear a child with them…

Lumaria was sickened yet, for the first time in her many years, powerless to halt these feelings. Not a mental state, but a distinct and irreparable shift to the very nature of her being,n a new instinct that she was unable to combat. Thus, Lumaria the Calamity did the only thing she was truly capable of doing… she fled.

Her horde, her vault, the culmination of her life, the very staple of her success as an assaulter of mankind, her home quickly became her final resting place. Lumaria choosing to starve herself of power and life rather than live such a hellish and undignified existence as the one her new lord and queen desired of her. Choosing to spite the succubi queen rather than live a life by her rules.

But spite her she did not.

Her breath, a fire that scorched men to bone with the shortest of bursts, turned rotten. Her glorious red scales, bleached of colour. Various shades of black, white, grey and dim blue in areas where they still persisted; many of her scales flaking to the cavern floor as she shuddered and died a slow, gruelling demise.

But the fire of desire that had forced her to hide within the walls of her tomb only grew. The lust she felt for the pitiful mortals with their weak, breakable forms only growing the closer she came to deaths door. Her muscles atrophying, her sight and senses too, but her subconscious thoughts and disgusting desires only growing as the warmth of life left her skin. Replaced absolutely by the flames of fornication, desperately and impatiently waiting to be sated as the mind adamantly refused. Until eventually the mind ceased to. Until Lumaria's spirit, corrupted fully by the rule of the succubi Demon Lord of all, caving in to the unquestionable law of her queen and mistress.

But by then it was too late. The entrances to her crypt were sealed and forgotten, her magic warped from giving her the power to raze mountains and relegated to sustaining her current (and newer) forms. Halting decay and keeping her in stasis, the dragon forced to lay in wait, burning and desperate, for a mortal to happen upon her lair and to sate her incredible, suffering need.

Now she lies still. The weight of her treasure pinning her near immobile muscles in place as she waits. And waits. And waits…

* * *

[FLASH]

 _Coins, goblets, jewels and other miscellaneous objects of incredible value burst forth in a cascade of incredible value as Lumaria, the Calamity of the Sea, burst to life once more after nearly eighty years of death sleep. Harry Potter beholding the rise of the long dead dragon in all her glorious, unholy wonder._

 _Her eyes were a milky white, rolling back and forth in their sockets in what should most definitely be total blindness. Her wings unfurled and flapped their incredible length, issuing out a harsh gust of air that sent more treasure hurtling about through the room, riddled with holes and gashes like moth eaten curtains._

 _The mighty draconian maw opened wide as Lumaria's head arched back towards the distant ceiling, a thick misty cloud of hot air cascaded out past yellowed fangs that rivalled Harry in size and glistened with saliva as milky white eyes rolled over in his and Druella's direction as Lumaria began a sharp inhale._

 _And she roared._

" _GRAAAAAGGH!" Echoing deafeningly off of the walls as Druella watched with crossed arms and a silly smirk as Harry slammed his palms against his ears_

" _Hu…man…" It growled slovenly, Harry turned to loom over at it fearfully and paled when he noted that irises returned to her milky white orbs. Icy blue, unblinking eyes of a gigantic dragon_

' _Dragons breathe fire.' Was a dumb thought that crossed through Harry's mind as his only warning before he lunged to the side, snatching up Druella's hand and diving off of the edge of the coin mountain as Lumaria began her exhale. Harry and Druella stumbled and slipped before snow white wings were violently unfurled and Druella took to the air. Harry desperately holding on as she flapped and glided to level ground and Harry began to run again, dragging her along before throwing a look over his shoulder,_

" _What the hell?" he hissed to himself as he beheld where they had just stood. Red and orange fire, as Harry had expected, was absent, instead a grey cloud of gas or smoke engulfed the area and rolled lethargically down the sharp incline in a violent stream from Lumaria's maw._

" _Were you expecting flames, sweetheart?" Druella giggled cheerily as she ran along behind him, giggling harsher as Harry levied a glare at her, "Maybe if she was a real dragon, but she's a dragon zombie, sweetheart. She doesn't have the life required for dragon fire."_

 _Lumaria halted her assault instantly as she realised that she had been duped, turning her cold eyes onto her fleeing targets and inhaling for a second assault,_

" _Wait. Then what is it? Poison?" Harry called panickily as he noticed Lumaria's movement, his eyes moving to the nearby obelisk and its offer of salvation._

" _Of a sort." Druella had the nerve to shrug, "It doesn't really affect me so I'm not too worried."_

" _I HATE YOU!" Harry roared before he turned back to the obelisk, a few feet from him, easily in sight and well within reach._

 _Then the cloud of gas was hurled their way once again._

 _A deep breath in before then as the gas bore down upon them was Harry's response before it could hit as he sprinted. His hand quickly slipped from Druella's and his steps faltered as he looked over his shoulder in panic at losing her._

 _But of course, she was gone again…_

 _Harry dove, slamming into the harsh metal ground and sliding heavily behind the obelisk as the gas impacted the ground behind him. Scrambling and stumbling painfully to his feet, Harry jumped and sprinted away with heavy gasps as a wince, knowing full well that he still was not entirely safe and should very much not push his luck._

 _Harry found fell. Slipping on a silver, ruby encrusted goblet and off into the air, hitting the ground with a heavy 'TWACK' after a two foot drop down a flight of concealed stone stairs. Harry groaned and gasped as he fearfully looked up for the dragon Lumaria, terrified when he could not catch sight of the being but could hear the quickly advancing hiss of ballooning gas and the snarls and roars of the dragon in the distance. Harry's eyes flashed left and right before he dove under the very steps he had fallen down and curled up beneath them, breathing haggardly and clutching his ribs as they throbbed hotly in vicious pain. His eyes clenching shut as he rammed his hands over his ears as the cavern echoed and shook under the force of the dragons second violent roar._

 _..._

 _Harry opened his eyes to darkness. He blinked and rubbed tired eyes and squinted into the shadows, hooking his arms around his knees and dragging them up to his chest as he hunched. His head smacking the low ceiling lightly and turning his head in confusion._

 _When he shuffled about, the back of his hands hit walls and thin streams of light dimly illuminate a familiar location. The sight of the slanting ceiling, the miniscule space and the distant sounds and voices of a trio from under the door cause his heart to sink into his stomach._

" _This seems comfortable..."_

 _Harry, whose eyes had fallen to his feet in quiet, nostalgic despair found Druella once again. Like him, she was hunched and folded in on herself to fit within the low ceilinged and confined space,_

" _Where is this?" She asked curiously,_

" _Where are we?" Harry's glaring response.  
"My question first."_

 _Harry scowled before sighing, glaring up at the ceiling as purposefully loud stomps rattled the roof and let loose clouds of dust and plaster,_

" _My old room in the house I grew up in." Harry said quietly as he stared reminiscently at the roof and room,_

" _This is a cupboard." Druella spat out in nearly furious confusion, laughing and smirking jovially as she stared in disbelief of his words, "Under a staircase, no less."_

" _I lived a loveless childhood." Harry murmured in seeming disinterest, going so far as to stun Druella with an uncaring shrug, "My question now, please?"_

" _Y-You actually lived in these conditions? How are you okay with this!? With any of this!?" Druella slammed her arms loudly into the walls as she tried to sweep them about the space,_

" _Answer my question." Harry responded firmly, eyes narrowing oh so slightly and giving Druella pause. She composed herself somewhat before slowly speaking again,_

" _We are still in Lumaria's lair. You are under the influence of her breath."_

 _Harry paused with wide eyes, his vision briefly overtaken by the image of the bluish dragon's torrent of dark gas,_

" _I- I thought I dodged it." He stuttered out,_

" _You dodged enough of it to avoid its full effects, but you passed out after inhaling a little too much. It will kick in in force once you awaken." Druella declared with amusement draining form her face the longer she spoke, "Your magic seemed to force you to withdraw into this corner of your mind to protect yourself."_

" _Is… Is it poison? Am I going to die, with you, in some lost to time dragons lair?"  
Druella made to smirk but it faltered in the face of Harry's expression: angry, lost and despairing,_

" _I said it is a poison of sorts. It effects your mind but will not kill you." Druella comfortingly spoke and explained, "Under its influence you will be more likely to perform certain… actions that you may not have performed otherwise."_

 _Druella surprised herself at the level of tact and restraint she showed in the ace of the child, that surprise only dwarfed by the warm feeling that blossomed within her chest at the sight of light returning to his eyes._

" _That's… preferable. I guess…" Harry muttered, his eyes falling again whilst his mouth shifted into a pout of question, "What exactly is she going to do to me?"_

 _Harry's eyes were imploring as they found the succubi's once again, afraid but determined in a way that made Druella melt further._

" _Do you know anything of dragons, sweetheart?" She asked gently, seeing his eyebrow's knit together in thought with an amused smirk,_

" _They're big lizards with wings that fly and breathe fire." Harry was able to bluntly knock out, met with a warm, hearty chuckle,_

" _If you want to be as simplistic as possible, yes." She said through her laughter before composing herself and going on to explain,_

" _Dragons are the chiefs of calamities, meaning they are inherently the most powerful of monsters. There is little in existence more powerful than a dragon. They once roamed where they would, took whatever the could and razed any who stood between them and their desires. Which in most cases, meant the deaths of humans and magical's."_

 _Harry flinched as he was bombarded once again with the furious image of the dragon, the razer sharp fangs and her colossal size,_

" _W-What is she going to do to me, Druella?" Harry demanded the answer in a small voice, eyes unblinking and wide behind his round glasses,_

" _She intends to copulate with you." Druella spoke cheerily._

 _Harry was struck dumb…_

" _What does copulate mean?"_

" _A dragon, like every monster that lives within the twentieth century, is subject to a single universal weakness. A desire to be with humans." Druella continued scholarly, though her eyes took a playful glint as she continued on, "To kidnap them, then copulate and breed with them until the end of their days."_

 _Harry may not have known what copulate meant, but he did grow up with Aunt Marge and thus knew what the word 'breed' meant._

 _His blush was furious upon the sinking in of that particular sentence,_

" _You m-m-mean… s-s-sex?!" Harry was able to stammer out, his mind shifting back to giggly, whispered conversations he had eavesdropped on between Dean and Seamus as they looked through the latest additions to the latter's magazine collection, "B-B-But…"_

" _Don't worry, her magic will change her into a form that the two of you can better... accommodate." Druella teasingly added as Harry trailed off into a scarlet, blubbering mess,_

" _Th-That's not the issue. I c-c-can't have sex. I don't even know how anyway." Harry's mind not even able to picture himself in the scenario yet his face furiously red at the implications,_

" _Thus, why I'm here with you." Druella declared proudly, Harry jumping and whacking his head more firmly into the rooms roof at her sudden enthusiasm, "I am a succubus. We are creatures of sex, monsters whose sole purpose and reason for existing is to seduce and have sex with mortals and other beings in order to gain power."_

 _If anything, at the knowledge of the undeniably beautiful (though, also likely to be pure evil) woman before him engaging in sexual intercourse, Harry's blush burned redder and brighter over his whole face and Druella laughed heartily as she caught on._

" _I'm going to give you some power and protection in order for us to perform this task." She shuffled a little closer to Harry with outstretched arms and he instinctively snuck back, "Just a few alterations to make sure you survive this encounter with your head intact."  
_

 _His nose was once again assaulted by the succubi's sweet scent and the warmth that radiated from her mostly exposed form. She had settled onto her hands and knees and leaned almost on top of him as he had desperately leaned back. One of her hands supported her position on Harry's right side whilst his left cheek was subjected to soft caresses with her other, free hand,_

" _Monsters have a way of turning their targets into lustful, slovenly beings. Like them." Druella breathed distractedly, her crimson eyes falling from his wide emerald eyes and ruby cheeks to his neck, "First, I'll give you a bit of protection against that."_

 _Quickly and silently, her lips found his neck. Warm and wet and forcing a shaky, gasp from Harry's mouth as they firmly planted themselves on the area. A pinch of pain caused Harry to wince, gasp and lurch as the soft thin skin was ensnared between her teeth and she gently bit down for a brief few seconds. Letting him go and flicking a soothing, loving lick onto the red, inflamed area before pulling away and smiling gleefully up into his red face._

" _Step one, complete."_

 _Harry's hand quickly rose to the warm area and felt something other than a bruise forming,_

" _That's my mark." She explained as Harry's fingers ghosted and probed the forming sigil he could not see, "It protects your mind against the worst of the monster's demonic aura of lust. Meaning you can give into their glorious feminine wiles without losing your mind, like any other mortal man in the situation would."_

 _Harry's tracing fingers paused as he looked to her in confusion and surprise,_

" _Now, let's work on this."_

 _Her free hand, which had been on his cheek, fell to his chest where heat instantly blossomed from the where his palm hovered over his heart and lanced outwards tot the tips of his toes, fingers and the top of his head,_

" _What are you doing now?"_

" _I'm just making a few minor adjustments, it'll make it a bit more fun for Lumaria and a little easier on your little self to… play along." She grinned as she drummed her warm digits against his chest, but her words were delivered in a slightly distracted tone, "Druella's giving you all the tools you'll need to give a girl a good time."_

 _The footsteps on the stairs turned Harry's head back up to the ceiling, Druella's attention firmly remaining on Harry as they hammered away. They were louder this time, insistent and impatient,_

' _Uncle Vernon?' He wondered as he heard them leave the staircase and come their way. The door of the cupboard under the stairs rattled and pushed against by some silent, unseen individual,_

" _That'd be reality catching up to you. Don't be worried, sweetheart. I'm nearly done and when I am everything will be ok."_

 _Harry's eyes looked beyond her to the door, watching it bulge and slam back and forth with shuddering apprehension as uncomfortable heat rolled through his body. His mind beginning to register the thin smoke sliding into the space, sweet and sickly against his nose and the back of his throat. His breathing becoming heavier as his body burned under Druella's touch,_

" _Dr-Druella…" He gasped out, shifting uncomfortably his trousers tightened around his member. His mind distantly noticing and feeling physical differences there and all over, an uncomfortable but painless feeling of growing and stretching pulling at him from all over as an almost satisfied hum echoed in the back of Druella's throat and she looked into his own eyes, that were quietly misting over in need and sighed,_

" _You should avoid talking to a woman with a voice like that, sweetheart." She breathed out as she slowly let her hand fall away, leaning in back slightly and taking a good look at him,_

" _It really does burn me you know, seeing you all hot and bothered like this with the knowledge that I don't get to be your first time." She spoke again as Harry's breathing increased. His glasses were somewhat askew and his hair wild as always, emerald eyes hooded and staring almost mournfully up into hers, his chest rose and fall with his deep heaves from his soft reddish lips, his hands supported him from behind and (as her eyes trailed down to review her handiwork) a familiar shape was tightly captured and choked within his trouser leg._

" _I guess I have the privilege of watching from the side lines at least." Druella breathed out as she lanced in once more and placed a gentle kiss against his parted lips. Harry flinching in surprise before a quiet moan trapped in his throat, only pulling away as the smoke blanketed the floor beneath them and the door was hit with an exceedingly powerful shove. Harry's breathing, if possible, became even harsher as his hole shook with each exhale. His eyes had widened noticeably but they were still glassed over with a desire and need she knew he could barely fathom or control, likely already lost in the throes of lust despite her attempts to protect him from it._

 _She smiled as sighed throatily as she pressed her head to his warm forehead and the room rattled around them,_

" _Time to face the music, sweetheart." She whispered against his aching lips, and the door finally ceased its resistance and was flung wide open._

* * *

 _-NSFW-NSFW-NSFW-NSFW-NSFW-NSFW-NSFW-NSFW-NSFW-_

 _Harry's eyes opened once more to darkness, shadow having settled over himself and Druella as they remained under the stairs._

" _W-Wha-" Harry spoke and immediately found that the source of the sudden dark shadow was the colossal multi-coloured (her flaking scales a myriad of blues, whites, blacks and greys) dragon mounted on top of a neighbouring pile of shimmering gold coins and looking down upon them with glassy blue eyes that bored into Harry with a heated intensity,_

" _Well, Lumaria has found us." Druella murmured but Harry was distracted by the dizzying the lightness and the heat and ache that rolled through his body as he was brought back to consciousness,_

" _Hu-man…" Lumaria's gravelly, harsh yet distinctly feminine voice rattled through his ears as she shuffled about atop her mound of treasure._

 _Her scales became luminous, shimmering and shining bright enough to force the two invaders to her crypt to look away. When their vision returned they found that Lumaria was no longer above them, glaring down at them in her draconian fury._

" _Where- AH?!"_

 _A figure stood before him, immediately reminiscent of Druella in Harry's eyes due to the dark blue and white wings that blossomed from the back of her hips. Differing from the succubi in their damaged state, ripped and torn in places and decorated by vicious white (fanglike) spikes on the ends of the wings powerful spines. A sweeping tail also grew from the same low location, sweeping away at the ground behind her as she strode and staggered their way from the foot of the treasure mountain,_

" _That's Lumaria, sweetheart." Druella answered the question that Harry had not been able to formulate._

 _Her skin was blue and held a soft sheen under the white light of the moon, she possessed the same ice blue eyes of the dragon that had previously accosted them as she staggered towards them on unfamiliar legs. Her lips, full and plump, were parted and clouds of perspiration ballooned past them with every exhale. Her heavy, heaving bosom bounced with each step of her scaled and clawed legs (still very much the bestial feet one wound expect from a dragon) that possessed the same disparity of colour that her previous form had held. Her arms also took on claws and scales, her long thin fingers still adorned with long, razer sharp talons that clinked in contact every time she flexed her hands._

 _Her arms crossed over her chest to cover her nipples, the shifting limp revealing glimpses of large, dark areolas against her cold skin. But her groin saw no such 'protection' and Harry was gifted to the sight of her dripping, open lips that seemed to steam in the low temperature. The sight causing a primal pulse and twitch in Harry's own pubic area._

 _He knew it meant he was… aroused. He had dealt with them before and heard the many smirking, giggling names the guys in his dorm had called erections in the year he had slept in the same room as them. But this hot ache that ran through his body, the drool that he desperately swallowed as he beheld Lumaria's feminine form, the hammering of his heart in his chest,_

" _W-What?"_

" _Everything's okay, sweetheart." Druella soothing spoke again, her hand cupping his face and the soft kiss to his forehead before retreating. Leaving Harry alone before the blue skinned monstrous woman, drooling from both of her mouths, "Lumaria dear will make you feel much better."_

 _She was upon them after those words, Harry wondering how she had closed the distant so quickly or silently, but was momentarily distracted by the loss of the familiar warmth of the succubi princess, turning his head in surprise at her absence as he was left with the dragon who lasciviously licked her lips at the sight of him._

 _In an instant a hand hooked her hand under his chin and turned him back to face her, wide and somewhat fearful emerald eyes meeting cold blue once again, his own desire waning in comparison to the heavy lust and need Harry had no hope of comprehending within her. His wrists were snapped up in her hands and he was very quickly pressed to the hard ground under the force of her indominable strength. Before fear or rational thought could form, lips were on his._

 _They were not warm like Druella's. They were ice cold, yet softer than soft. Moulding over Harry's bottom lip and dragging it up and away between her softly grasping teeth. Harry was pushed further into the harsh floor when the cold tongue of Lumaria finally breached his lips and entered his own mouth. The cold feeling and the overwhelmingly sweet taste caused shivers to roll though his body and his eyes to roll back into his head._

 _Harry felt a wet stain gather around his own iron hard shaft as Lumaria's hips settled over it. Her body humping and gyrating over his as she ravenously assaulting his mouth, pinning his thighs between her stronger and softer ones as her hands danced across him in eager and exploratory grasps._

 _Quicker than lightning Lumaria's torso and came away from his as she knelt, straddling his waist. He hands came away from Harry's arms and tore through Harry's thin t-shirt with sharp talons that stunningly failed to even graze his pale skin in their impassioned eagerness. Her hand slamming into the coin littered floor for support as she stared down at her topless prey with a lecherous expression. Her full lips parted and her dark, drooling tongue hanging from between them as she stared down, her full chest heaving whilst she stared down with unbridled lust to her gasping, pinned prey._

" _Hu- H… Husband." She whined watery, licking her lips and leaning down to lay a long possessive lick from the top of his navel to the tip of his chin, "Lulu feels so hot. Lulu wants her husband."_

 _Her taloned fingers curled under the waistband of his jeans and they tugged, barely budging despite her strength. Scowling and glaring down at the unyielding article of clothing before violently popping and ripping his belt free to freely whip the jeans from his legs and divest him of his underwear. Leaving him nude and painfully erect of the ice-cold floor, shivering under her lustful, approving appraisal of his form._

 _Harry was stunned to find that he was enraptured in heat as soon as the soft wet walls were forced down upon and around him. His breath catching in his throat as he briefly lost the ability to exhale, his erection slowly but surely breaching soft heat as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Cold thighs pinning him, unmoving, under her slow descent._

 _Release hitting him upon being fully sheathed within her, Harry emptying himself into her with breathless moans in sharp spurts._

" _W-Warm…" A low keening mewl of delight from Lumaria as she felt her partner's ejaculation within her, a shuddering breath rattling from within her heavy chest as she threw her head back to the sky and ground her hips in slow circles around her still grunting and moaning catch._

" _More! Lulu wants more!" She screamed, her hips raising faster than they had lowered and violently descending back upon her helpless and sensitive lover. Harry gasping and wincing at the sudden shift in pace and tone, her aggressive thrusts forcing moans and gasps from his throat as he also tried to move away from the harsh feelings of pleasure that threatened to break his body and ruin his mind. But Lumaria refused to tolerate such actions, pinning him in place and capturing his lips in a wet, angry kiss, "No, fill up Lulu more."_

 _Her moans of pleasure were low and sultry, intermingled with sharp exhales and satisfied gasps as she bounced her hips,_

 _Black spots developed on the edges of his vision as he was continually assaulted. Wet, harsh slaps announcing each time their hips met, Harry's member firmly stroked and grasped by Lumaria's gossamer walls as she eagerly sank down and reluctantly pulled away. One hand continued to pin his wrists above his head whilst the other cupped his face to further facilitate the assault of his mouth, her inner lips coiling, milking and squeezing the meaty intruder in a primal, predatory need for his seed. Spasming and fluttering preluding her own scream of vicious delight when she successfully achieved her prize of Harry's semen and matched him in orgasmic bliss, further losing her mind as Harry did his._

 _Harry was brought to the brink and beyond over and over, his vision and consciousness fading after some time before returning to the feeling of the insatiable monsters probing tongue on his neck and face as she ground harshly into him and whispered and moaned her unfathomable delight. Harry not knowing how long he had laid beneath her, body numb to be pain of the cold hard floor but sore and pained at his over-sensitised bodies continual abuse under his lovers violent, insatiable libido._

 _And it was with thoughts of the pain he was receiving, as his thoughts cleared from the effects of Lumaria's 'rotten breath' that he was… rescued._

 _The sound of a different kind of penetration hit both of their ears. The shredding of flesh and shattering of bone and muscle startling them both as a hand punched violently through Lumaria's chest. Harry cried in alarm as he was splattered with black ichor and witnessed a blood blackened hand grasping an organ in its clawed hand. The action causing Lumaria to stiffen and pause her impassioned tryst in alarm before slumping and falling limp atop Harry, finally moving no more so long after her death. Her body briefly pressed further against him as the figure sought leverage to yank their hand from Lumaria's hollowed out chest cavity, said action all Harry needed to finally pass out from the horror of the situation._

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _Awakening fully clothed and clean was not what Harry expected. Nor did he expect to be back in the front room of Ollivander's once more, shafts of moonlight illuminating the shop floor alongside a multitude of floating and secured candles. Harry's eyes tiredly beholding their flickering flames, hypnotic in their movement and in the shifting shadows they cast,_

" _He's awake, Ollie!" A soft, sweet voice hit his ears and he turned those tired eyes from the fire to the fiery eyes of Unyi, relief and glee evident in her gaze as she smiled. He offered a tired, half smile in response as he sat up. Eyes cast down to the sleeping mat he had awoken on,_

" _Hi Unyi." Harry croaked from his dry throat, hand reaching up to it, parched and gasping before a cold glass was pressed to his fingers,_

" _Here." The brownie offered to him with a slightly cocked head and sweet smile, Harry taking it with silent appreciation and draining it dry in a few sharp gulps, surprising him when it refilled itself. Unyi meeting his gaze with a smug smirk as he drunk from it again, Harry allowing a more genuine grin to split his face before-_

 _He dropped the cup, it fortunately hitting the soft pseudo-mattress instead of clattering against the floor as his eventful evening replayed in his mind and the soreness of his groin and body echoed through him,_

" _Hey, are you?"_

" _W-Where is Druella?" Harry croaked out, more in quiet terror of the being than dehydration. Unyi's delighted, relief falling away at the mention of her,_

" _In the backroom with Ollie." She quietly replied, Harry stiffening at the thought of her being so nearby and shuddering as his body remembered the cold clutch of the dead that he was now so intimately and sickeningly familiar with, "She carried you back with the dragon heart."_

" _she… She killed Lumaria." Harry gasped aloud, hand flying to his mouth as a physical barrier as he suppressed violent gags at the image of her, now familiar, hand piercing the female's chest as he lay within her,_

" _No, I didn't, sweetheart."_

 _Neither pleased to hear those familiar dulcet tones echo through the room, they stiffened and froze. Simultaneously turning to face the white winged succubus who had arrived beside them,_

" _She seemed pretty alive whilst we were there." Harry shivered as he spat out, not at all focussed on the actions but instead on the fact that Lumaria had spoken, moved and… lived before his very eyes._

" _She was dead when we got there." Druella responded patiently, "Kept mobile and in one piece by her desire to mother a child and be with a man. You fulfilled her deepest desire, a wish she couldn't fulfil when alive sweetheart and, as payment, we took her heart."_

" _That's selfish." Harry responded, tears forming in his eyes despite angry swats at them , "That's taking advantage."_

" _Indeed. It is. But as is life, sweetheart. Not every wizard has the benefit of having a wand core that can be freely given, like yours." Her tone remained placating and patient, unreservedly fuelling Harry's own rage, "There is a dark and dirty side to everything, no matter how pure or bright it may seem. That is what it means to be alive."_

 _Harry glared up at her but immediately lost some of his edge when he found she was not looking at him, but glaring (with a loathing that matched his own) at Ollivander, hovering behind the counter._

" _Now, sweetheart. For your first performance, you did superbly. Do not worry, your stamina and tolerance with increase with every coming interaction and you'll also grow… better with every encounter."  
"I- I don't want to ever go through that again." Harry's voice was tiny, pathetic and miserable. His whole body shook and he crossed his arms in and took deep steadying breaths and he barely held himself together. Missing the guilty expression that flashed over Ollivander's face and the fiery hatred Druella sent his way before she softened her face and gently caressed his shaking shoulder,_

" _It will never be like that again, my dear."_

" _There won't be an 'again'!" Harry roared, slapping her away before his hand was caught in her iron grip and terror blossomed within him once more. Irritation turning Druella's red eyes and beautiful face cruel and fear inspiring for the briefest instant before she dragged him up and into her arms, embracing him softly but firmly. "L-L-Let me go!"  
"Fall apart for a little while, you've had a bad experience." She whispered, voice too low for even Unyi (stood off to the side as she worried shaking hands into her dark dress) as she gently stroked Harry's hair, "Fall apart and let everything out on me, I'm here to make things better."_

 _Harry swatted at her back, clawed at her arms and tried to pull from her grip as tears fell hotter and harsher before he stopped and just held her as she held him. Sobs pressed into her chest as he cried for lost innocence._

 _._

* * *

 _._

 _Most of the lights were out when he returned to the school's front door, Hogwarts and its occupants slumbering as he slipped back in in red eyes silence. Eyes swollen and body weary as he slipped into the Entrance Hall without a word and made for the stairs to the higher floors._

" _What time do yeh call this?!" A familiar, derisive voice that Harry was not ready to hear hit his ears. Filch._

" _I've just got back from work. And I'm tired. Please let me go to my dorm." Harry mumbled out as he ignored the man and his keening cat as he kept walking,_

" _Turn yer ass around and stop bein rude you ungrateful-"_

" _Don't you dare cuss or raise your voice at me." Harry snarled, turning to face the man with fiery eyes and newfound energy, the floor rumbling under his rage as he spun around with clenched fists. Faced with Filch and Mrs Norris as well as his Head of House, the Headmaster and two black robed men with the Ministry insignia on their lapels. His anger immediately evaporating in the face of them before he all but slumped and moaned in_

" _T-Threatening staff. That's expulsion right there! I'd have you flayed if it weren't-"_

" _That's enough Argus, perhaps you should return to your patrols and leave this in our hands." The calming and gentle tone of the white bearded Professor Dumbledore cutting him off like a blade, firm but non-confrontational in his shut down of the school's caretaker. Leaving him to gape like a goldfish before grumbling off past Harry with his cat in tow._

 _Harry's impression of the old man that ran his school had changed very little since the first time he had laid eyes upon him. He exuded a grandfatherly aura, a gentle and warm air radiating from the man's eccentrically dressed form. Yet, almost paradoxically, he also radiated a power and authority that he almost dared the world to challenge, he held Harry's respect even as he stood before them in sky blue pyjamas decorated with small white clouds._

" _Are you okay, Mr Potter?"_

" _I'm… fine professor. Thank you." Harry ground out in response to his headmaster, adding his thanks as an afterthought and being greeted with a relieved smile in response,_

" _Lovely. Now, I do believe these young men of the Ministry would like a word."_

 _An aged hand was cast in the dark robed men's direction. The first was the taller of the duo, a black man with round brown eyes that exuded a gentle power. His stature was larger than even the tall thin Dumbledore, the man broad shouldered bald and very serious looking. The man standing with an elegant poise and sporting a single gold hoop earring in left ear (to Harry's silent fascination)._

 _The second was a very short, pale man with wiry grey hair and baby blue eyes. He stood with his hands in his pockets and a curious yet set serious expression settled upon his face. Despite his dwarfed physique in the face of his partner he broadcasted an aura of self-assuredness and confidence as he cleared his throat to speak,_

" _Mr Potter. I am Auror John Dawlish and my partner here is Auror Kinglsey Shacklebolt." The grey-haired man gently gesturing to the taller, dark skinned man who nodded silently and even offered a soft, soothing smile that Harry returned tiredly,_

" _It's a pleasure to meet you both." Harry's fatigue failing to choke out his manners now that his fury had vanished, "What trouble am I in?"_

 _He caught a quick smirk appear and disappear from Dumbledore's face as his eyes glittered with nostalgia,_

" _We received reports that at 8:19pm this evening, you made repeated use of the Cutting spell whilst in an undiscoverable location in Cornwall." Dawlish continued, looking down at an unfurled scroll of parchment he hadn't realised he had been holding, "As you should be aware, that is a clear violation of the use of underage magic decree."_

 _Harry stiffened as he returned to the lake, cold hands and water infesting his thoughts rather than the knowledge that he had broken the law._

 _The four adults felt the hairs on their bodies rise at what they beheld. Harry's body shook and his arms encircled him in a protective gesture. Colour draining from his face as his breathing momentarily increased and he scrunched his eyes shut. Combined with his blatant lethargy, his tear swollen eyes and (what only Dumbledore seemed to see in the dim light) the faint bruise like shape on his throat, alarm bells rung, and conclusions were being jumped to,_

" _Would you care to explain yourself?" McGonagall asked, tone coming across as much harder and sterner than she would have liked. None of the adults appreciating the violent recoil from the boy in question before he seemed to quietly compose himself,_

" _I'm sorry." He said quietly,_

" _Can you tell us what happened? Were you in some sort of danger?" Auror Shacklebolt spoke for the first time, deep voice gently probing and concerned. Harry's hands digging violently into his jacketed arms in a very uncomfortable looking gesture before he viciously shook his head,_

" _I- No. I don't want to."_

" _Don't want to what? Tell us?" Dawlish asked, his eyes narrowing somewhat, "You've broken the law, Mr Potter. You WILL tell us."_

 _Dawlish's words were met with a trio of nigh murderous glares that his bad-cop bravado wilted beneath,_

" _Mr Potter, whatever occurred you are not in trouble." Dumbledore spoke up, stepping forward with a gentle smile and soothing voice, "You are safe from harm and can tell us."_

 _Harry's head was shook again, the boy stepping back as his fingers dug in deeper._

" _Understand, Mr Potter. If you do not choose to explain yourself then we will have to register this as a strike against your name for underage magic." Shaklebolt gently spoke, drawing Harry's tired eyes and wincing as they emptied of feeling, "I can see that you've been through something awful this evening, and we will follow this up when you're a little less tired. But that is your situation, we'll be in touch."_

 _Dawlish and McGonagall were vehement in their disapproval at Harry being free to leave their sight, but he made for the stairs and ascended on jelly legs to the common room._

 _Harry stumbled into the common room on sore feet and surveyed the empty room with almost fearful eyes before staggering in and over to the still roaring fireplace. The light and warmth emanating from across the room as Harry stumbled over to it._

 _Lethargic, drained and sore all over, Harry collapsed before it with a heavy sigh and was lulled to sleep by the lullaby of crackling logs._

[FLASH]

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 **There are a few more chapters like this, let me know if you would prefer them to be more or less explicit. This was slightly uncomfortable to do (considering Harry's age) but more so because of what I know comes of all of this. DO LET ME KNOW IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEE THIS DONE DIFFERENTLY IN LATER CHAPTERS!**

 **If any of you are interested, Druella and Harry initially had this super confrontational moment in the cupboard that I wrote at midnight the other night but got scrapped when I sat down to type this today. The essence of it still remains and thus the interesting relationship between the Boy Who Lived and the Daughter of the Demon lord shall continue as planned!**

 **This was an odd chapter to write, but I will stand by it. I hope to see you all next time.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Once again, thanks Spartan3909 and starboy454 x**

 **BBWulf: Thanks for responding to the AN, and I think you'll be moderately surprised at how quickly his alleged 'inhumanity' may start making things interesting…**

 **To the Guest reviewer (who at this point should really give me a name to call them by** **), this may sound a bit weird or rude but I'm glad and it's probably a good thing that that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable. I must admit, when I finished it I actually didn't proof read it as thoroughly as the others as I couldn't really look at it anymore. It's only natural that it's not a very nice read but I'm glad you're still liking things so far regardless. Xx**

 **Thanks for the continued readership and all the Follows and Favourites. I have a bit of a rhythm going at the minute and I'm glad you guys are riding along with me. x**

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* * *

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 **A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:**

 **Chapter 9**

 _ **HE IS NO LONGER SAFE...**_

A simple thought from a far from simple being. A thought that preluded actions she should no longer be able to take. That last glimmer of light from her depraved mind allowing her to reach her hands beyond the pandemonium, to him.

Her dearest heart.

But she recoiled. Afraid. He may have been damaged but she still saw the light that she had so desperately pushed from her. She would not risk tainting him.

Thus she moved elsewhere. For he still needed protection and she was still obliged to provide it.

So, even if she herself could not protect him, she would provide him with people who could…

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* * *

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The Potions lab, as it had been since the schools founding, was located deep within the bowels of the castle. The dungeons repurposed from their formerly malicious, dark and foreboding aesthetic to a simply damp and dim area of torches and classrooms. Heady, heavy scents of potions and particularly pungent ingredients hanging in the air and tugging at the noses of those who stepped into the Slytherin's domain.

As this area of the school was as dim and drab as it was desirable. Thus, most of the many classrooms, stores and other rooms within the sizeable and numerous floors beneath the castle floor were empty. Abandoned and victims to the ravages of time and neglect, only the regularly used laps, the well-hidden dormitories of the Slytherin students and the equally guarded quarters of the Potions Professor Severus Snape were in any condition befitting a magical school that prided itself above all the others. But, with so little occurring in the depths of the school, and with very few areas to keep a particularly sharp eye upon, Professor Snape had unofficially been left entirely responsible for the events and happenings of the Hogwarts dungeons.

Said Professor had halted Delphi from leaving the classroom when that mornings lesson had ended and the sharp bell for lunch had echoed through the castle corridors.

"Would you care to explain your tardiness?" The low, unimpressed drawl that the Slytherin head of house was well known for almost made Delphi roll her eyes in her irritation,

"Parkinson, her cronies and I had a... disagreement in Charms." Delphi spoke out in an equally disinterested tone, "I was outnumbered, I came off worse."

Snape's 'tch!' was not encouraging or particularly comforting,

"I will not be acting upon this." He quickly stated with sharp black eyes glaring down at her from his atop his hooked nose,

"Of course, you won't." Delphi muttered in a dark tone,

"Watch your tongue girl, you would do well to remember where it is you stand."

Delphi glared, Snape's eyebrow rising but a cold smirk curling his lips when she did in fact stay silent. Reaching up a hand to ruffle her hair but the smirk falling away when his hand was slapped away.

"That was... rude." He growled but Delphi's loathsome expression only deepened. He grinned again, "You are just like her…"

Delphi shuddered at the breathless delivery of that sentence and fingered her wand within the pocket of her robe, ready to slice his throat if this went the way she thought it would.

The door slammed open, starting the Professor from his nigh-lecherous expression and Delphi jumped away from the sound and her teacher in brief terror as Harry barged back into the room.

"Sorry Professor, I forgot my bag."

"Detention Mr Potter."

"For what? I'm just getting my things"

A response could not be formulated quick enough by the still reeling Professor, so Harry decided to continue,

"I'll just grab my things and run by McGonogall to tell her about this." Harry said lowly and the greasy haired, sallow skinned man rose to his full height and glared down at the boy,

"Arrogance befitting a Potter." Snape spat with a curled nostril of disgust at the  
"Wasn't that arrogance what saved your life?"

Delphi didn't understand the exchange, but she did see the sadistic smirk that split Harry's face and the quick paling of Snape's face.

"Do I have detention still Professor?" Harry asked coyly, cocking his head to the side with a raised eyebrow, seemingly unperturbed by the way Snape shuddered in rage before them both, hands clenching and unclenching in barely restrained fury.

"G-Get. Out." He ground out, Harry quickly slinging his bag onto his back and snatching up Delphi's hand, "20 points from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Now, both of you get out!"

The door slammed behind them with an echo that ran up and down the corridors as the two scurried away,

"You ok?" He breathed out when they had reached the stairs up to the rest of the castle, worried glances thrown over their shoulders and hearts hammering in their chests,

"Of course." She huffed, glad they were no longer linked by the hand so she could hide how it still shook in her robe sleeve, "W-What was that with you and Snape?"

"I could ask you the same." Harry stated, looking at her with concern despite the sharpness of his response, "You looked worried, did he… do anything?"

Delphi almost felt afraid to answer. Not because their professor had tried anything… untoward. But rather that it seemed he was going to.

"I- No. He didn't do anything, he just really freaked me out." Delphi allowed herself a bit of relief that her friend felt the same, "B-But…"

"Then what has he got over you?"  
"W-Wha… What do you mean?"  
"I heard him say something just before I came in, about where you stand? Is he blackmailing you?" Harry's expression turned sour and he threw a loathsome expression back in the direction they had come, "Because I'll hex that greasy git to hell and back."

"Can you keep a secret?" Delphi questioned softly in response, cutting through the anger that had begun to build within Harry with her unusually timid tone.

"You know I can." He offered a cheeky grin that Delphi responded to with a small smile before erecting a serious expression,

"Even from Hermione and Ron?"

Harry flinched visibly. Of course he wanted to say he would, but still,

"Why... wouldn't you tell them?" His question was slow and confused,  
"So that's a no."  
"I didn't say that."

Delphi sighed and scratched at her scalp before entwining her fingers nervously,

"Have you gotten taller?" Delphi wondered aloud, comparing the height difference between the two of them with a hand that extended from her forehead as crude measurement. Harry seemed surprised, as if just noticing that he was now taller than his good friend when he hadn't been before, "Growth spurt, huh?"

Delphi didn't like how his eyes shifted away and his response was a too quiet agreement.

"What's with you today? You've been out of it all lesson." Delphi asked, quietly choking her worry in order to keep a level head,

"I… just had a bad night." Harry murmured out, before plastering a bright grin onto his face, "I'm feeling a bit down, but I'll be alright. I promise."

"What happened?"  
"I, don't want to say."

"Harry-"

"No, Deplhi. I… I can't." Harry's smile disappeared entirely, and that heavy look returned to his eyes, "I… I promise I will. But I don't want to think about it for a while."

"I. Okay. I understand." She did but speaking the words and promising herself not to pester felt like swallowing nails, "But, I am the first person you tell. Understood?"  
Harry raised an eyebrow in question,

"I decided that I'm going to be taking care of your foolish self. So, when you feel ready to talk, you tell me. Ok?"

Harry smiled and swatted her shoulder lightly as he walked by and the two smiled all the way back up to the castle proper. Their silence his answer.

* * *

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Ron surprised Harry at lunch by piling sandwiches onto both of their plates instead of just his own as he sat down,

"What's the occasion?" Harry asked

"You seem down today, I'm trying to make you feel better." He gruffly sniffed out, not meeting his eyes but the tips of his ears turning red. Harry allowing a warm smile at the attempt and nudging the boy with his shoulder,

"Don't be going soft on me Ronnie." Harry smirked as he picked up one of the ham and cucumber sandwiches Ron had got him and took a tentative bite. Smiling at the taste but continuing with tiny bites as his stomach roiled,

"Are you sure you're ok?"  
"I'm just tired Hermione, sorry for worrying the two of you."

And he was, angry beyond belief that his upset had so negatively affected his friend's moods. Electing to do better job for their sake, thus pushing a warm smile at their concern and managing a few more bites of his sandwich.

"erm, h-h-hi, um…"

"Good afternoon Harry Potter and co." A more confident airy voice cut over its nervous stammering predecessor and drew Harry away from his quiet contribution to Ron, Dean and Seamus's debate about the Hollyhead Harpies whilst Hermione jotted away at that days Transfiguration homework and rolled her eyes at certain comments about the all-female team.

Stood before them was the blushing and fidgeting Ginny Weasley, eyes downcast as she worked her robes in between her fingers as she glanced over at Harry with wide hazel eyes through a curtain of orange hair. Beside her was a smiling girl with dirty blonde hair and crystal blue eyes that seemed to be looking through each of them with its distant and unfocused gaze.

"Oh, what do you two want?" Ron sighed as he turned in his seat and levelled a bored gaze at his sister and her friend,

"Ronald."

"My name is Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger. It is a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance." The blonde greeted Hermione with a gentle smile and incline of the head,

"Erm… yes. It is very nice to meet you too."

"Nice to meet you Luna. And nice to see you again Ginny." Harry greeted the two with a small, polite smile

Luna's hand shot out faster than any of them expected and snatched up Ginny's wrist in a vice like grip, stopping the girl from running away from the situation with a sweet, innocent smile on her face. Harry was the only one surprised, the others just seemed terrified at the display of Ginny trying to pries her arm free as she stood unmoved,

"Ginny wanted to say something, she noticed you looking rather upset today and wondered if the majority of the schools ignorant, back stabbing, awful, judgmental, stupid populace's blind hatred and their quick assumption of you as the Heir of Slytherin may be taking its toll upon you. So she wanted to offer you some loving support but lacked the confidence to address you."

Harry barely followed Luna's words and it took him almost a full minute to register what had been spoken by the clearly eccentric girl,

"Oh erm, that's… very nice of you Ginny." Harry quietly replied with a gentle grin at the scarlet faced younger sister who was cleary staving off her mortification as she stared into him. Harry shifting in discomfort but not knowing how to deal with the shy girl, really not knowing why she was acting this way anyway. Luna finally let go of her friends arm but Ginny didn't run away rubbed her freed wrist and shakily cleared her throat,

"I, y-yeah erm… I'm sorry that you have to go through this Heir of Slytherin… stuff…" She didn't meet his eyes as she spoke in a small but firm voice, seeming to gain confidence as her fidgeting hands worried away at her smooth skin, "B-But I just wanted you to know that… I know you aren't the heir of Slytherin and so do most people. So, y-you don't need to worry about the idiots that don't know any better."

"E-Erm… thanks." Harry was surprised at her quiet earnest words but smiled a sweet smile that further burned her cheeks red as he spoke again, "That's very kind of you, thanks Ginny Weasley."

"How could the little sister of Ron, Fred and George be this nice and well mannered." Hermione wondered aloud as a nervous smile split Ginny's face in the wake of Harry's words,

"HEY?!" Ron shouted in indignance, blushing slightly at the ears as there was snickering agreement at Hermione's vocalized thoughts before he continued, "And I'll have you know that sweet little Ginny runs her mouth pretty much all the time. She's only all meek and gentle cause Harry's here."

"Shut up Ron." His sister spat a response, turning from Harry with a sharp glare in her eyes as all timidity was forgotten in the place of flaming irritation,

"Make me Gin."

"Maybe I will, you prat." She snapped, crossing her arms and glaring down at Ron from her standing position, "Mum said you, the twins and Percy are supposed to help me out and take care of me. One letter home shows Mum how piss poor you've been at that job."

"It's rather unfortunate that her big brother's best friends are acting more like kindly siblings than her actual sibling." Luna lamented aloud in a cheery tone, smiling sweetly down at the pink cheeked boy,

"Yeah Ron, you're not taking particularly good care of your family here." Harry's eyebrows waggled, and an easy smirk curled his lips, "Do I need to take her away from you to make sure she's looked after?"

Harry blushed just as furiously as the Weasley's did whilst Hermione unleashed a vicious coughing fit after choking on her pumpkin juice. Ginny scurried off with a sharp 'eep' and Luna offered a few sweet valedictions before she skipped after her.

"Goddamn, our little Harry's a lady killer!" Came a familiar Weasley voice, that didn't belong to his best friend (who had slammed his face into the table and wasn't speaking or moving),

"It brings a tear to the eye, both as a dear friend of the man in question, and as the big brother of the maiden he's preying upon."

"Afternoon morons." Harry smirked quietly, his embarrassment quelled somewhat at the bravado and flare of the two Weasley twins. The pair stood behind him with The Vixens and Oliver.

"Hey ladies, hi Ollie." Harry greeted his fellow members of the Gryffindor team with a tired but ready smile, "What's up?"

"Good afternoon, my star Seeker!" Oliver greeted in a bright and enthusiastic greeting that had Harry's tired face twisted into a small tired half smile,

"No need to continue the flattery, Oliver. You've already got him onto the team." Katie Bell smirked as she stepped past the group and plopped in next to Harry with a more gentle smile as she ran a quick hand through her neck length mousy brown hair, "We're just here to make sure you're playing this weekend."

"Katie!" Oliver cried out at the theft of his thunder,  
"Yeah, we know you work weekends and we don't want to have to actually play McClaggen instead." Angelina Johnson grimacing as she spoke and glared over in the direction of their arrogant and oblivious substitute Seeker, "Last month was more than enough play time for that prat."

The entire team (and a few eavesdropping Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs) on either side nodding along and agreeing at the reminder of McClaggen's arrogant conduct before, during and after the Gryffindor teams victory over Slytherin house the day before Halloween.

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on missing any more matches. Especially if Malfoy's their new Seeker." Harry growled before glaring over at the Slytherin table. The poised aristocrat in question noticed Harry's glare and raised an eyebrow, before cowering and looking away from Harry's progressively darkening and murderous glare.

"Good, cause otherwise we'd have had to set those two on you until you did." Angelina responded appreciatively as Oliver visibly sagged with relief. In a response of their own, Fred slapped Harry's back playfully as the boy took a deep sip from his goblet and George quickly leaning around him and tipping up Harry goblet. His brother briefly pinched the boy's nostrils closed.

Instant panic took over as liquid filled Harry's mouth and throat and he briefly couldn't breathe. Violent instinct took hold and the back of Harry's hand flew out and caught George's jaw with a bruising blow that sent him stumbling off and allowed Harry to drop the goblet.

Choking and panicking, he spewed pumpkin juice over his plate and lap, left gasping harshly. Eyes wide as he slowly shook off the chains and returned to reality,

"Jesus!" Ron exclaimed,

"Harry, are you ok?" Hermione almost yelled in her worry, ignoring the vicious shaking of Harry's head before glaring angrily at the laughing twins,

"Hehe, n-n-nothing. Just ch-choked a b-bit." His cheeks were red, and his goblet shook violently as he tried to calmly put the goblet down and keep the amused smile steady on his face, "Good one, idiots."

Fred and George bowed elaborately in response and squeezed Harry's shoulders under, ignorant to how Harry stiffened to stone under their touch and was lost to them again. Their hands substituted by paler, bloated ones in Harry's minds eye.

"Well, we'll leave you to your lunch…" Oliver awkwardly trailed off before slipping away.

"I-I c-c-can't do this." Harry whispered and threw himself to his feet, shaking as he stood and quickly feeling his friends worried eyes on him as he swept his work into his bag, "I-I'm going to go to the library for a bit."

"Oh, ok. Hold up, I'll go with you." Hermione quickly spoke up, making to do the same with her own books and parchment,

"NO!"

He winced as they did too, the duo surprised as the volume and desperation in his tone and Harry embarrassed yet adamant that he be left be,

"I-It's f-fine. I just want to… be alone for a little bit." Harry quietly spoke up, not looking at them as he made to leave, though he was able to force a smile onto his face in reassurance.

His smile felt sour on his face, but he smiled it anyway. He wasn't anywhere close to okay, grasping hands and drowning permeated his thoughts throughout the day as he stumbled between classes and played the art of meek, sarcastic Harry Potter. Falling back in to old habits.

His footsteps echoed off the walls as he took to the stairs and avoided the other students and teachers as he made haste towards the library. The smell of books somewhat comforting and nostalgic as he stepped over the rooms threshold, the large library a labyrinth of floor to ceiling shelves packed to bursting with textbooks, novels and tomes of all sorts of topics and

But something hit him like a train, not just as an excuse, but as a true reason to utilize the room for his own benefit.

"Do you have any books on Parseltongue?"

Pince recoiled in shock, horror as if she had heard the name Voldemort spoken aloud.

"Wh- What. I… am unsure." She stammered out an unconvincing answer that had Harry's eyebrows knit together in irritation,

"Fine then." He said, slipping by her and snagging a small parchment guide from one of the small reading desks by the entrance and slipped into the labyrinth of shelves, following the directions to the 'P' section to begin his search.

Far too used to having to do things himself.

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.

Sands shifted in an abandoned, empty acre of desert. Untouched my magic and by mad. Pushed by lazy strokes of dry wind and the movement of burrowing, crawling critters.

Hilly dunes shifted and shook under the force of something other than nature. Something above it, beyond it, more powerful, beautiful and more dangerous than any storm, quake or natural malady that Mother Nature could make or muster.

The manipulation of a Goddess.

Legends and myths of many cultures in many different pantheons dictated that the movement and meddling of divinity in the mortal realm was a prelude to chaotic times and terrible fates awaiting those who called this realm their home. And that could possibly be the case.

For as something reached free from pandemonium, too incorporeal to be seen or felt, but real enough to be the necessary cause for an equally necessary effect. Someone awakened.

Mummified, dead, forgotten to time, she awoke as her Goddess called for her immediate response. Dried skin and aged bone cracking and crunching as they moved for the first time in thousands of years. Flexing's of grip and the woman's first steps on weary legs in her pitch black crypt made easier and easier as magic and power flooded her form.

"I live again to do thy bidding, my lady." She croaked from a dead throat, dark lips curling into a smile of reverence, a smile she had not allowed to sit so comfortably on her face since her days living.

Deep under the desert sands, trapped in a tomb buried and forgotten by even the oldest, ancients of humanity. Untouched for millennia by even air or moisture, Mokunaii the Eleventh rose again to do her ladies bidding.

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* * *

.

The bell rang to signify the end of the lunch break roughly an hour prior, but Harry's irritated eys still flew across printed pages.

The P section of the library had been a bust, Harry only coming to that realization that there was unlikely to be a book titled 'Parseltongue' briefly before arriving there. Scouring the section between the O's and Q's with more determination and care than he had ever levelled towards anything else in his life. Coming up short.

His next port of call was an area dedicated to languages. His hopes were stoked by a tome detailing wizards and witches with the ability to commune with animals,

" _Parselmouths have been known to commune with serpents."_ Was the only appropriate section at the back end of the reptile section.

"Twenty minutes wasted." Harry snarled as he slammed it into the shelf a bit too forcefully, wincing immediately at the action and looking about worriedly. Expecting Madam Pince to swoop in like some sort of demonic bird for daring to disrespect her precious books at any minute.

When his heart rate had subsided, he moved on. As he walked on in thought, he briefly considered piling on the charm and attempting to ask the librarian for help once again. He had too little confidence in the success of the plan to let the idea form far,

' _Yes, hi Madam Pince, I must say you are looking lovely today. Your stylish hat really compliments your robes. Listen, I'm looking for information on a seemingly dangerous ability that I apparently share with a Dark Lord and the only evil member of the Founders of Hogwarts, whose legacy has put Filch's cat and several students into the Hospital wing. Kinda just want to know what I can do with it, really. Would you mind giving me a hand, you sexy thing you?'_

He felt physically sick just entertaining the embarrassing mess his attempts would be…

Thus, he found himself in the Archives and Records section. Surrounded by long forgotten copies of the Daily Prophet and other manuscripts and forgotten manuscripts. Though, Harry was not here to look for mentions of Parseltongue in the printed media of yesteryear (specifically) but for the magical function available in that part of the library. The Index Scroll, the easiest way to find something in the schools library, unfurled and waiting on a heavy mahogany desk under the sunny skylight.

Wracking his brain and hoping to god that it was spelt the way it sounded, Harry scribbled onto the bottom, under the ominous: 'Blackouts', 'Memory loss' and 'Possession' searches, the words 'Parsel Tongue'.

The words faded away as soon as he had written them, leaving Harry staring for a few minutes in expectation before he peaked at the instructions mounted in a frame on the wall above the scroll. Quickly realizing that the search had failed.

He scratched his head before rolling his eyes, remembering that it was a single word, scribbling 'Parsetongue' onto the parchment and being rewarded with the word glowing a pretty gold for a brief few seconds at the bottom of the page.

Good news. He had thus found several books and works making mention of the ability in some capacity within the library (the book list printed in a beautiful flowing font on a neat sheet of parchment that appeared in his hand). Bad news, they were all in the Restricted Section.

Harry's sigh of exasperation was explosive. He knew he was far too impatient to hunt down a professor to give him special permission for entry into that section of the library (not that he doubted for a second that they wouldn't should he explain why) nor to wait the four years he had to before he was entitled to access as a sixth year. Which only left breaking in. AGAIN.

He'd only been in the Restricted Section once, and it had been at night whilst the gigantic room had been entirely unoccupied. Granted he had been under the invisibility cloak (something he had had to run up the many flights of stairs to the Gryffindor Common room and staggered back down under after deciding to break in then and there) understanding that it would be necessary once more for the exact same scenario.

[FLASH]

" _H-Hey Harry, w-what brings you back up?" Neville asked in surprise as Harry dove into the dorm, the boy sitting on his bed with a half empty box of Every Flavour Beans and an unfinished roll of Charms homework._

" _Can't talk. Kinda busy. Gotta run. Have a good afternoon." Harry's sentences abrupt and rushed as he rummaged through his trunk before sprinting from the room,_

" _Oh… erm. Bye then?" Neville's confused reply to Harry's retreating back._

[FLASH]

Using the printed parchment like a shopping list, Harry ghosted through the shelves of the Restricted Section, snagging books and scrolls from the shelves as quickly as he could manage. Dancing around and between sixth and seventh years and avoiding notice and suspicion as best he could. He worried away that Percy Weasley has seen his retreating arm as he dragged, 'Accomplishments of the Dark Lords' into his arms and froze in place when Madam Pince's suspicious eyes ran over to the entry way to the section as it clicked closed a bit too loudly. But nothing was said and he retreated into a distant corner with his spoils.

Learning exactly nothing new for his troubles.

How seven whole books (eight including the throwaway comment in the previous magical languages tome) could possibly all say the exact same thing in more, fancier words left Harry baffled and uncomprehending of witches and wizards sheer ridiculousness.

"This is hopeless." Harry moaned aloud, head in his hands and elbows planted firmly on the table he occupied as he groaned out his defeat,

"Ah, a dead end in your research, I see? An unfortunate but common occurrence in academia." A familiar elderly voice sent a freezing feeling up the length of Harry's spine, frozen in place even as the man kept speaking, "I'd encourage you to not give up and instead persists, possibly trying a new angle or source. But I think we need to have a word.

Instead of baby blue PJ's and a matching night cap, Professor Albus Dumbledore struck an impressive, six-foot figure in a pair of yellow and black stiped robes and a similarly coloured and stylized pointed hat. His snow-white beard stuffed into his robes at the waist and his half-moon spectacles were perched precariously on the edge of his long nose covering glittering blue eyes,

"AH, erm… Professor Dumbledore, sir." Harry started and leaned away from the leaning in man, cheeks slightly red in mortification,

"As much as it pleases me to see a student dedicating themselves to their studies, I do prefer to see them do so in their allotted lessons." He decreed in a tone riddled with amusement and paternal disappointment, "Professor Sprout was quite worried when you didn't arrive for your lesson."

Harry was weighed down somewhat by the weight of his Headmaster's disappointment in him, combined with the incredible misfortune that had befallen him that of all the teachers to find him skipping class, it was the school's headmaster.

"How about a word in my office?" His Headmaster smiled sweetly at him, but his bright eyes held no room for an answer in the negative.

Harry's numb, fearful nod was his reply…

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* * *

.

 **On a light/sorta note, did you know that Irma Pince's (the Hogwarts Librarian) Boggart is Voldemort? I didn't know that until after I'd finished her part in this chapter and the next one and looked her up to make sure she was actually referred to as 'Madam Pince'. Guess it makes sense that she'd not be too happy to have Parselmouth student trying to look up one of Voldemort's more famous abilities…**

 **To be honest, I hate this chapter in its entirety (except the image of cutie, twelve year old Neville completely bewildered by Harry entering and leaving the dorm so quick). It feels incredibly edgy but I needed to get some things out of the way to continue along. If I can somehow do this better at a later date I will return and do so (so if you happen to reread this in whenever and it's not quite as you remember it, this is the heads up that I've tweaked it a bit since).**

 **Anyway, leave thoughts, suggestions and stuff with a Review. Do you think Harry could have wooed Pince into helping him? Can you even fathom Dumbledore prancing around Hogwarts like a massive bee in his yellow and black robes? What secret did Delphi want to tell Harry?**

 **Who knows? (ME) bye bye x**


	10. Chapter 10

**DRAGONDAVE45: Once again I chuckle away at your review as what you've asked was exactly what I had written XD I wrote about 90% of this chapter at the same time as the previous one and split the two apart so that the chapter wouldn't be too long. Thanks for following along x**

 **Chosen-One-92: Very good guesses but not correct. Granted if you (or anyone) guessed what it is that relates the two of them I'd be very disappointed. Also (like above) it was mildly amusing reading your comments about Snape considering what is written below. Thank you x**

 **starboy454: thanks again, good guess on the basilisk situation but… not quite** **x**

 **Dragonphoenix666: good luck with Sixth form (I remember it well…)**

 **Spartan3909: Thanks once more bud (P.S. Thanks for pointing out my mistake :D)**

 **Zathol: Thanks for the review, really glad you're enjoying this so much. I hope you enjoy how things unfold from here on out.**

 **EXPOSITION. INFORMATION.** _ **WARNING:**_ **Chapter May Not Be As Fun As Others (but I will make up for it next chapter)**

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* * *

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A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:

Chapter 10

"I… I've done it!" Ron gasped out in incredulity as he stared down at the papers before him. His four-poster bed all put invisible under the mountain of parchment that covered it. Manuscripts butchered by annotations, highlights and underlined passages by ink of all colours of the rainbow. Scrunched up balls where notes had been taken then scrapped and tossed aside.

But the centrepiece of the maelstrom of written material was the scroll, a single sheet of parchment reaching just shy of two feet long. Rolled closed in the middle of Ron's bed as he knelt before it, trying to massage away the vicious cramp in his writing hand with a grin so bright and smug it could rival the sun,

"I've only gone and done it!" He almost shouted in his breathless delighted victory. The imminent detentions he was due for skipping his afternoon classes and the Howler that awaited him from his mother once the teachers told her.

But that _**DID NOT MATTER**_. He now had a recipe sheet for the most coveted artefact on the planet: The Philosophers Stone.

His grin stretched from ear to ear as he stared down at the last 4 months of his life, thick sheets of parchments pinned together within a thick folder.

 _To Bill,_

 _I finally cracked the code and have a full list of ingredients and such with which to work with. Thanks for all your help and I'll write you again once I've set stuff up and made some progress._

 _Enjoy Egypt!_

 _Ron_

Ronald Weasley's quill flourished in the air extravagantly with a grin as he stared down at the last sheet of parchment he held, addressed to the big brother who had taken the time out of his busy, world hopping career to assist him.

He grinned and handed the letter to the preening Hedwig, her amber eyes almost amused as she flippantly held out her leg. His best friends familiar hooting indignantly when she was instructed to bring the letter to his, flapping her thick white wings at his still extended hand aggressively and hopped out of the window with much flapping and angry squawks.

Ron turned back to his notes and quickly yanked loose a sheet of parchment from the carefully bound folder

Yew wood, interesting. I'll see if Harry can pull some strings with Ollivander to get me some, or at least where I can find some myself.

Octopus Ink followed by Ulcers of a Dragon. Ron grimacing at the latter entry to his list and wondering where or how he could possibly get a hold of them.

He quietly smirked and mused to himself that the first letters of the ingredients list, compiled by writing them onto the parchment the minute he had discovered it in the other manuscripts, spelled out YOU with the first three articles of the list.

Y

O

U

H

A

V

E

B

E

E

N

D

U

P

E

D

Ron looked up and down the acrostic poem he seemed to have written. Looking it up and down with raised eyebrows and a quickening heart.

Thus, Ron snatched up his folder and flung it open and rifled through the good dozen of sheets of parchment that instructions and notes were printed upon.

He was not the most eloquent or sophisticated, he did not have the most formal or high brow grasp on the English language with its large words and gigantic sentences. But he knew that the words written were nonsensical, contradictory and it had nothing to do with how Ron's note taking presented the ideas and information hidden within the

"This… none of this makes ANY sense." Ron choked out with wide eyes, staring down at the misleading, confusing and often contradictory instructions that the most famous alchemist on the planet had oh so carefully hidden in his public manuscripts. Secrets locked behind ciphers and codes that a junior Cursebreaker and his second year Hogwarts student brother were able to crack with just a few months of work.

The ridiculousness of the premise struck him violently.

"You have been duped." He whispered out, testing the words out on his tongue in a shaking voice, "I was… tricked?"

Ron's hand slashed across the creased sheets he knelt upon, scattering his work with an angry growl, fists clenched and teeth grinding as his jaw shook from the strain of holding in his screams of outrage. Fury at being tricked, irritation at being led to believe he was allowed to-

'What was that!?'

His fury was distracted by an uncomfortable sensation. A finger. Ice cold and trailing down his spine, for the briefest of seconds. Causing him to lurch around to find nothing to suggest anyone else occupied the empty dormitory. Beds made in various states of dishevelment, the odd discarded article of clothing, thick heavy trunks and a soft musty smell.

The room was empty besides him, nothing out of the ordinary as he hoped for despite not expecting as such. Thus, the sharp vibrant red caught his eye.

It was stiff, card rather than parchment, sat on the edge of his bed. Elegant, flowing cursive in a gentle crimson ink covering the small piece of card on the edge of his bed. Ron's hand reached out to grip the note that he had never seen before and brought it closer to his worried eyes to see what was written,

 _ **To have your hard work and sacrifice disregarded so callously, you have my sympathy.**_

 _ **I extend to you the knowledge in which you seek, in exchange for a small favour of course. Should you be willing to make a deal.**_

 _ **You know how to contact me…**_

 _ **Yours, as always,**_

 _ **The Queen of Hearts x**_

Ron was left listless and confused on his bed, surrounded by parchment and a shattered dream.

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* * *

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"Our dear Librarian, Madam Pince, came to me just a half hour ago. Very concerned that a student may be looking into something dangerous in her library." Dumbledore explained in an uncomfortably cheery when the headmaster explained that his attendance in his office had nothing to do with his late return to Hogwarts earlier that morning.

"I… umm…" Harry felt the need to speak under the weight of Dumbledore's raised eyebrow, "I didn't know Parseltongue was dangerous, I just wanted to know a bit more."

"Would you care to explain why you were flagrantly researching something that the Ministry of Magic dubs Dark Magic?" Dumbledore's tone remained neutral despite also accusing Harry, the addressed shifting in his seat as he swallowed his angry feelings, affronted,

"I didn't know it was Dark Magic, Professor." Harry was able to mumble out and was met with a 'hmm' of questioning, the slight injustice of his disbelieving and accusing professor causing his fists to clench in his lap,

"Ignorance is hardly ever an excuse in the eyes of the law." Came his somewhat derisive response,

"Well I didn't know. Trying to find out more about it shouldn't be a crime." Harry's eyes narrowed as he spoke and Dumbledore's

"Be that as it may, it is classified as a dangerous piece of dark magic. Thus we do not carry too much information on it in our library, for obvious reasons." Dumbledore steepled his hands and interwove his fingers as he rested his elbows on his desk, looking at Harry from over the rims of his spectacles, "And as we are an establishment that does not allow the study of the Dark Arts, we teachers have to inform one another when a student looks into the subject."

In a way, Harry understood his headmasters mentality, he knew next to nothing about the Dark Arts, but that (fortunately) was an ignorance that he shared with those who HAD grown up in the magical world.

"I… I will find out somehow what Parseltongue is. Somehow and some way."

"That sounds awfully aggressive, Mr Potter."

A pressure, heavy and suffocating settled over Harry's shoulders. Harry's breaths coming in short for a time before he desperately looked into the pressures source, the choking invisible force appearing from behind the eyes of the blue eyed head,

"…you know something don't you? That's the real reason why you won't tell me." Dumbledore's serious gaze softened somewhat under Harry's words and his eyebrows rose once more, "Yeah, I can see it. Please, please tell me?"  
"I apologise profusely if I sound petulant here, Harry. But why should I?"

Harry didn't have a response for quite a while before he carefully spoke again.

"I understand that if it is dangerous then you don't want to tell me, but at the same time it is a part of me." Harry explained pleadingly, "If I'm going to be bullied or pushed around because of it, then I want to have a better idea as to why."

His eyes were imploring. Dumbledore reached for a lemon drop in response, rolling the sour candy around inside his mouth as the glimmer momentarily left his eyes. Hard, serious and searching from an impassive mask,

"What will you do with the information?" he asked, his voice slow and a white eyebrow arching up. Harry started in surprise and shuffled in his seat uncomfortably before speaking again,

"I-I don't know." He stammered out, flinching under Dumbledore's irate expression,

"I have a multitude of information on the subject, but cannot impart any of it if I am unaware of your intentions." He decreed without a modicum of warmth

"Professor, I know absolutely nothing about Parseltongue. I have no intentions, I just want to know what it is." Harry's tone was level but he was still annoyed behind that façade,

"So, the fact that you utilised it to turn a rat into a teacup is something I should just ignore?" His tone almost holding a tone of loathing as he no longer saw the son of James and Lily sat across from him, but a young man with similarly dark hair, high, aristocratic features and sadistic streak hidden behind a pretty smile. His head reliving a similar conversation spoken almost half a century prior.

Dumbledore was thankful for his monumental, self control. For without it, he would have cursed aloud until he was blue in the face.

Harry's face twisted in confusion at the headmasters question, eyebrow's knitting together and his forehead scrunching. Then it was if a light had turned on behind his eyes and there was a sharp gasp of realisation,

"I-I can do that with Parseltongue? I DID that with Pareseltongue?" He gasped out in shock and barely restrained excitement as he spoke. A brightness returning to him that had been absent the night before, "H-How? Please tell me how?"  
"Why?"  
"I want to know!"  
"Why should I explain it Mr Potter?" Dumbledore's voice held a firmness that slashed through the boy's enthusiasm, forcing him to recoil back into the back of his seat, leaving Dumbledore to sigh at his own impatience and rudeness before speaking again, "Knowledge is power. It can be used for good or evil regardless of its nature or contents. This is a very dangerous secret if it were to be given to those who could see it exploited."

"Are you saying that you think I might use it for evil?" Harry asked, tone almost harsh but his expression genuinely quizzical,  
"That is not what I said-"

"Or that I'd let that information fall into evil hands?" Harry leaned forward, voice raised as some plot formed behind his curious, searching expression,  
"I-"

"What if I gave you a wizard's oath?" Harry's enthusiasm returned somewhat at the surprise that flashed in his headmaster's blue eyes, pressing the issue now that he'd caught the man off guard, "I'll swear on my life that I will keep the information safe and not use it for evil or allow it to fall into the wrong hands."

"Harry, be careful with the words you are using. A wizards oath is a serious endeavour. You cannot enter into them lightly and they are inescapable once you have done so." Dumbledore drawing back in his seat and staring down his nose at the obviously ignorant child,

"I am deathly serious." Enthusiasm was gone, instead it was stony, serious determination that straightened his back and hardened his eyes, "I know you have the information I need now Professor, I am willing to swear on my life that I won't let it fall into the wrong hands."

Speechless and further caught of guard. It took time for one of the most powerful wizards alive to formulate a reply,

"You would really risk your life on this issue?"  
"If it means I can continue on with my research, then yes." A savage nod accompanying his decree,

"Why are you really dedicated to this, you are obviously seeking power. But for what end, Mr Potter?"

He paused, his eyes scrunched closed and Dumbledore waited. The clock ticked a minute by and Harry inhaled slowly before speaking,

"I want to be free."

Dumbledore for the first time in that conversation, started himself. Another Tom Riddle no longer sitting at the desk across from him.

Instead his younger self stared him down with emotive, desperate but determined green eyes. He shifted under that gaze, uncomfortable not only with the possible implications, but the very comparison of that child to himself. The knowledge of who he was and who he became linked to this boy in particular FAR from comfortable.

Yet under that gaze he did cave.

"Parseltongue is a magical language. This means it is a language that is MADE of magic rather than a language that has been assigned magic, like Latin."

"It's… made of magic?"

"Blood magic to be precise." Dumbledore nodded sagely before continuing, "Long ago, on the sands of the desert in ancient Egypt, one of the oldest dark lords, Herpo the Foul created from scratch the king of serpents. The basilisk, a being that could kill with a glance and held the most powerful venom of any being in creation."

"He also created a way to control it, Parseltongue, the language of the serpents. Using his own blood and other procedures and methods lost to time, he tied the ability to communicate with and control snakes to his bloodline." The Headmaster continued,

"To his bloodline? So he and his children could speak it?" Harry asked, quickly catching on as he spoke aloud, and the Professor nodded,

"Yes. So, he himself and any descendants of his would, upon birth, be able to fluently and effortlessly communicate with serpents and bend them to their will." Dumbledore's eyes closed softly, he rubbed his forehead with long probing fingers as a sigh erupted from past his lips, blue eyes taking in the enraptured youth before lethargically continuing, "Millenia on, wizards and witches displayed the ability. Many being powerful dark witches, wizards, lords and ladies who used their use of the language as a banner to spread terror and make an indication of their power and lineage. Two of the more famous examples being one of the founders of this school, Salazar Slytherin and the more recent Dark Lord Voldemort."

A pregnant, silent pause settled upon the room as that information sunk in,

"W-wait? D-does that mean…"  
"Yes Harry, Parseltongue is an ability passed through the blood. So, you are in someway related to the two of them and, far more distantly, to Herpo the Foul."

Harry felt sick. But he swallowed the forming gag, his mind compartmentalising the information to address at a late date,

"Harry, if you feel-"

"P-Please… just continue." Harry stammered out, barely trusting himself to speak under Dumbledore's pitying stare, but continue he did,

"Very well, but I must say that is the limit of the historical facts. It is an ability, a piece of ancient blood magic that has survived throughout the centuries, that manifests in the descendants of Herpo the Foul."  
"Implications?"  
"It is a magical language, as I have previously stated. Meaning it holds a power over magic itself that Latin, Gaelic, Greek or any other language that humanity has used to focus their power can and will never possess."

Harry looked lost, thus Dumbledore rubbed his head again and searched for a simpler way to explain.

"When you use magic, the spells you say aloud are used in a way to give the magic inside you instructions. For example, Wingardium Leviosa instructs your magic to make something float. Are you following me so far?"  
His brow furrowed once again, but Harry quietly nodded in understanding,

"Many people worldwide perform magic this way, using dead languages in order to focus their magic and speak spells. Thus, Latin and the others are examples of languages that we have 'assigned' magic to. Meaning that hundreds of years ago-"

"People just decided that those would be the ones we'd use to have our spells in." Harry spoke allowed, pieces clicking together as he spoke, "Instead of English or the languages they spoke at the time?"  
"Yes indeed." Surprised by the interruption but not put off, "The people of the past all but unanimously and simultaneously decided to assign their own magical power to the no longer spoken languages of the past. Deciding that only in those tongues would their magic be instructed."

"Choosing dead languages that nobody spoke anymore is perfect! That way, you don't accidentally give magic an instruction when you don't want to every time you speak." Harry said in an impassioned reply before he froze in his seat, Dumbledore was confused and concerned as he watched something dawn on Harry's face, "T-That's what I did, isn't it? With Parseltongue? I accidentally gave it an instruction with an _actually_ magical language and transfigured the rat?"

"20 points to Gryffindor." Dumbledore smirked with pride, the glimmer returning to his eyes at the boy quickly putting the pieces together without him having to explain the next bit, "Yes, unlike Latin or Gaelic, which we have decided we want to use for magic, Parseltongue is magic already. Meaning that if it is used _for_ magic, the effects become more potent, or it said magic becomes easier to perform. Possibly both, it is unclear. Nobody has used Parseltongue in such a way before, but it is how certain other magical languages operate."

"There are other magical languages?" Harry asked awestruck,  
"Yes, though they are not spoken by humans," He stated, "Granted, we can learn them. Mermish, Elvish, Gobbledygook, we can make the appropriate sounds and form the words to communicate, but they are not our languages, so we cannot use them for magic like Parselmouths can use theirs. Like you can use Parseltongue for yours."

"So… if I do a spell in Latin and then do the same spell in Parseltongue. The second one will be more powerful or easier to perform?"

"In theory, yes. And, combined with the fact that you are already fluent, from birth, in the latter language, there is should be no magical feat you cannot make a spell to accomplish."

"I can say anything in Parseltongue and it'll happen?"  
"As long as you have enough power and concentration, the two greatest factors in a spell, you could theoretically perform feats that could dwarf even me one day."

Dumbledore beheld disbelief, wonder, awe and even a bit of fear, at that knowledge. That fear seeming to grow before Harry spoke again,

"D-Does Voldemort know? I mean, he's a Parselmouth too right?"

Albus sighed but shook his head,

"I had a similar talk with the young man who would go on to become the Dark Lord when he was in his teens. I saw then, the path he would tread, and withheld that information from him and received no indication that he ever reached this conclusion at a later date." Dumbledore felt his age as he spoke, remembering him as if it really were yesterday. Tom Riddle, fifteen, straight backed and charming as he flattered and pleaded away from his seat for information about Parseltongue and unknowingly revealing the malice and hatred to Dumbledore's weary but aware gaze when he was denied, "I don't think he ever did, fortunately."

Harry nodded slowly, his eyes falling to his shoes before he nodded once again. Stance and expression resolute as he held out his hand towards him,

"Thank you for telling me Headmaster. I'm ready to make that oath now."  
"Why are you so eager?" Dumbledore's eyebrow raised as he surreptitiously drew his wand to make the oath anyway,  
"This oath will stop be from revealing it right? It'll stop me from revealing it by killing me before the likes of Voldemort or other evil people can figure out how to use Parseltongue for evil, right? I have to make sure that this information never falls into the wrong hands myself. That's the responsibility I have and the promise I made when I asked you to tell me the truth." Harry's face held no emotion, it was hard as steel, and his eyes glowed with purpose, "For your benefit, for mine and for the benefit of any and all who could be hurt by the misuse of this knowledge, please hurry and make an oath with me Dumbledore. I promise on my life that I'll never misuse the knowledge you gave me or let anybody else do so either."

And on that day, Dumbledore took the warm hand of the Boy Who Lived and bound him to those words.

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* * *

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[FLASH]

 _Too widely spaced oil lamps threw Albus Dumbledore's face into shifting, glorious shadow as he sat atop his conjured throne before the inly occupied cell in Nuremgard castle. His glare levelled at the shivering form of his old friend and enemy as he coughed and wheezed between sharp bouts of hysterical laughter._

 _"Oh I only wish the world knew you as I do, Albus." He eventually wearily spoke up, wiping a stray tear from his eye as he looked up at his adversary with a mirth filled gaze, "A man who believes that 'everyone deserves a second chance, bah!"_

 _"You keep that boy around because it is convenient." He accused with a smirk like sharpened ice, "Admit it."_

 _"I see no shame in doing so. Severus Snape was a trusted individual within Voldemort's Inner Circle. Trusted to not only brew the Dark Lord potions, but to play an active role in their plans." He spoke clinically, as if he were reading from a textbook, "_ _He was a lively participant in their so called 'raids'. The blubbering man has admitted to far more and far worse than what he has been reported doing."_

 _"And yet you have gone so far to defend his actions and keep him by your side in the presence of children."_

 _"He is a dog on a tight leash, not even knowing how limited he is in the actions he can perform."_

 _"How so?"_

 _"His guilt. The fool accidentally sent the Dark Lord after the only woman he has ever loved, eleven years ago, and finds himself unable to forgive himself for her near murder." Albus explained with a gaze of the utmost disgust and loathing, though his distant gaze showed it was not actually directed at the man he was speaking to, "It is enough to keep him in place in order to have him do my bidding. But nowhere near enough to secure any modicum of redemption. Not as if the man cares, he is not seeking redemption."_

 _"And yet he is within your employ?" An eyebrow raised and smirk tugging at a corner of his lips,_

 _"As well as being a vile, waste of a man; he is also an incredible potions master, a powerful and intelligent wizard and very well trusted by the Dark Lord." The headmaster had the gall to shrug,_

 _"You would have him return and spy for you, wouldn't you?"_

 _"The dark lord is bound to rise once again, by then I plan to already have my pieces in motion to slice him down."_

 _The former Dark Lord cupped his chin in hand and hummed in audible thought as a wicked grin ghosted across his features,_

 _"I wonder... How do you look these men and women in the eye, knowing you harbour and vouch for the man who directly ruined their lives?" Grindlewald's words were snide and cruel, yet still failed to get a rise from the addressed, "Knowing that by your hand, he evades justice."_

 _"With a smile on my face, knowing that this small sacrifice of my morals will ensure no others will suffer in the same way again."_

 _"A necessary evil for the greater good, you mean?"_

 _"Of course."_

 _"BAH!"_

 _Grindlewald rocketed to his feet and twirled away from his enemy on shaking legs, walking to his cells thin, small window to stare out onto the black landscape._

 _"Even after all these years you STILL haven't changed, have you Albus." He spoke over his shoulder, dark eyes glimmering coldly as he stared into Dumbledore's soul, "Still living by the same ideology you swore by as a youth yet have denounced as a man."_

 _"The suffering of the few for the benefit of the whole is a concept that predates us both, Gellert. The only one who perverts it so is you and your... ilk."_

 _"I'd have you take that back about my dear followers and subordinates." Grindlewald responded with a slightly more cold and clipped tone,_

 _"Do not pretend to care, Gellert. I know they were only pawns in your game." Dumbledore rolled his eyes but started sharply when Grindlewald slammed his fist harshly against the bars and glared viciously up at him,_

 _"I WAS A PAWN ALSO!" He bellowed, enraged and only held back from striking a blow by the physical barrier between him and his aggressor, "Don't lump me in with that Voldemort mess you created. Or all those other wannabe rulers of the earth. I didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. It was all about the success of the cause."_

 _"I hold your very existence in my hands, Gellert." He warned, fists clenchings around the arms of his throne, "Be careful of how you speak."_

 _"What are you going to do, Albus? What more can you take from me?" His tone cut through sharp as steel, "I'm an old man Dumbledore. Far past my time, battered by age and occasionally those accursed guards. There's nothing more to be done that you would be willing to do."_

 _Grindlewald scowled but not to the other speaker, who tugged his beard in soft callous thought,_

 _"I do wonder what keeps you alive these days, Gellert? I only come here out of hope really."_

 _"Hope? For what? For me to repent?" Grindelwald scoffed in_

 _"I hope to be here when the light leaves your eyes and you are finally mastered by the very thing you sought dominion over all those years ago." Dumbledore spoke in a crisp tone as he glared down his nose at his bettered adversary. Grindlewald's grin turning to a sour grimace,_

 _"Spite. That's what keeps me going, Albus. Pure, malicious spite." He spat up at the other man, the spittle that frothed past his lips fallung short of the hem of Dumbledore's robes but the headmaster's glare intensifying further at the gesture, "I will pass happily from this world when I am certain that you beat me too it."_

 _"Death is merely the next great adventure, old friend. Making it there first to be with those I have lost is a privilege I wholeheartedly and eagerly await." Dumbledore rose to his feet and brushed imaginary dust from the lap of his pristine robes. His throne vanishing from existence the minute he rolled to his feet and turned to leave, a final snide comment thrown over his shoulder with a clear, emotionless mask upon his face,_

 _"Besides, as the history books would have it, it would not be the first time I have beaten you."_

 _Dumbledore allowed himself a small chuckle as the clang of a fist on iron bars and growled obscenities followed his path to the long flight of stairs. Pulling the door open and stepping over it without pause as he left Gellert Grindlewald behind._

[FLASH]

Hours later, Harry reached the door of the office and pulled it open. Pausing on the threshold of the headmaster's office long enough for the owner to give pause to the paperwork he had set before him,

"Professor, does having Parseltongue make me dark?"

"Evil is a choice and an action. You could be the child of Voldemort himself and still not be evil." Dumbledore's explanation was as earnest as it was rehearsed, having not expected this talk so soon yet ready for it all the same, "What you do is what defines you, Mr Potter. Not what you were born as."

Harry's brow furrowed in thought before a modicum of acceptance settled over his face and he nodded. Offering a small smile that Dumbledore returned, he slipped out of the office and on his merry way.

Alone again, save the snoring portraits of his sleeping predecessors, left the old man to reflect upon his own actions. His regrets, his mistakes, plentiful as they were catastrophic. Not many people can admit that they allowed a wizard to kill hundreds of people when they had the means to stop them all along.

Twice.

 _'I wonder what the world now calls a man who breaks everything he touches? Are they still called a monster?'_

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 **Random ass question (and I ABSOLOUTELY CANNOT WRITE THE NEXT CHAPTER WITHOUT AN ANSWER) do you want a slight detour next chapter to everyone's first year? The next chapter involves Harry's next wand core trip and a mini interaction with Kinglsey as well as Druella making plans for Harry's Christmas, but I'd really like to do Harry, Delphi, Ron and Hermione's first year as well as how they became a group of friends.**

 **You get either one either way, whichever you choose, I'll be doing and releasing that chapter afterwards. So, pick whichever one you want to see first and I'll take the majority vote.**

 **Thank you for reading x**


	11. Chapter 11

**HAHA! I'm home for the Easter hols so I hope to pump out both of these chapters before I get back.**

 **Thanks for all the lovely words and votes on the previous chapter, it's lovely to hear feedback from you guys and I'm glad so many of you are liking it so far.**

 **Popular vote was First year. This was pretty fun to do as a bit of filler before we return to the meat of the story.**

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A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:

Chapter 11

"Gryffindor!" Came the Sorting Hat's final announcement, bellowed at volume after his telepathic back and forth with the boy who's head he was resting upon after a full seven minutes of conversation and introspection.

The Hatstall was met with applause and cheering so loud that it shook the plates and cutlery on the tables with its enthusiasm, the greatest of the four tables applause echoed from the Gryffindor table itself, the schools resident troublemakers going so far as to lead many of their housemates in cheers of,

"We got Potter." As he nervously stumbled over to the boy he met on the train, the smiling and whooping Ron Weasley.

Harry's eyes briefly fidnign the Slytherin table as he looked away in embarrassment, immediately noting their more subdued 'celebration'. The majority of their expressions sour and very few offering even the smallest, politest claps.

A little while after the raucous applause and cheers had died down, Professor McGonagall called up the next name,

"Rowle, Delphini."

Harry softly noted that the pretty girl that had smiled at him in the Entrance Hall was called Delphini as she strode up to the jagged mouthed Sorting Hat with just as little confidence as the rest of them. Well except for Malfoy, who strutted up to the magical object as if his father had just bought the castle, but Harry didn't like Malfoy so he decided not to count him.

A good five minutes of her gentle squirming and fidgeting lead to a smug cry of,

"Slytherin!" and quiet applause echoed hollowly off of the walls and starry ceiling as polite clapping echoed from the tables as plain disinterest flowed through the room as she shuffled and stepped towards her new houses table.

"Eugh! Another one?" Ron whined aloud lowly as he glared at the bowed head girl,  
"Huh?" Harry questioned in surprise at his sudden aggression,  
"A Slytherin, Harry. It's the house where all the Dark Wizards and Witches go."

Harry looked to her as she sat down, her eyes fell to her lap and Harry quickly noticed a few of their fellow housemates nodding and muttering in agreement of Ron's sentiments as the girl in question found her seat next to a girl with an unfortunate pug-like face.

Years of living with the Dursley's had really hammered in the ideology of, 'looks can be deceiving'. Although, in Harry's eyes, the trio that was his family were as hideous on the outside as they were within, they portrayed the image of a good and honest family whilst treating Harry like a slave and calling him a freak.

Thus, although he could admit (with rosy red cheeks) that this Delphini girl was very pretty and looked nice enough, if Slytherin house was the house of the dark wizards and witches (and the Sorting Hat had saw fit to place her there among them) then whoever she was beneath the surface was likely not worth knowing.

Harry watched her settle in at her politely clapping table for a time before looking away and forgetting that the girl even existed…

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* * *

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Neville Longbottom sniffled and winced as he cradled his sprained arm as he was soothingly lead along by their Broom flying instructor, Madam Hooch.

"Give it back, Malfoy." Harry demanded with narrowed eyes as he overheard and saw Malfoy throwing scathing insults towards Neville's retreating back whilst tossing the boys red Remembrall up and down in uncaring hands. The blonde turned to Harry in momentary surprise before his expression turned condescending and his mouth curled up in a foul sneer,

"Aww, sticking up for the squib, Potter?"

Words were tossed back and forth with escalating venom and scathing, before Malfoy offered a smirking remark,

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for him to find." Malfoy mounting his broom and hovering up into the air as he spoke, "How about the roof?"

He dangled the glass orb at arms length with a toothy grin under the murderous glare of the boy he was taunting and turned to his own housemates with an aggressive cheer. Though his grin somewhat faltered under a series of unimpressed scowls, one of which from a purple eyed girl who had crossed her arms and had begun to shake her head in disappointment.

"What's your problem, Rowle?" his question held an undertone of loathing as he sneered at the girl in question.

"I'd recommend against flying, Malfoy." Delphini Rowle drawled out dismissively, as if the warning she was given was quite the bother to even articulate. Her addition to the situation evidently not welcome when the platinum blond scowled at her and she glared in reply, "Hooch'll have you both banned."

"Nonsense, Rowle." Malfoy puffed out his chest as he settled into a float a few feet above the ground, "But if you're worried about me…"

"Hardly, more worried about the mess I might accidentally step in when your arrogant self falls off without a Professor or your precious father here to catch you."

Some quiet snickers accompanied her words whilst Malfoy flushed in defiant anger. His mouth opened in a forming retort but snapped shut as he chose to simply pull up and further into the sky,

"How troublesome." She mused aloud as he took to the air and looked Harry's way with a raised eyebrow, "Let me guess, you're going to be a fool as well and join him?"

Harry flushed from her words then glared angrily in her direction,

"I'm going to help my friend, it's perfectly normal to risk detention to deal with bullies." Harry scowled as he spoke, noting a miniscule flinch before she scoffed herself, "Not that you'd know from your end I'm sure."

"You don't need to explain yourself to me, Potter. Go up there, fall off your broom in your inexperience and break every bone in your body. I'll be watching." She grinned a sadistic toothy grin that actually caused a shiver of fear up his back and made Harry drag his eyes away from her piercing purple ones.

"I'll be shoving that Remembrall in your face when I get it back." Harry scathingly muttered to himself as he threw his own leg over the broom and viciously kicked off the ground, ignoring Hermione Granger's worried insistence that he should not. Shuddering in the air and nearly falling off when he rocketed up into the sky much faster and harsher than he could have imagined.

A series of miraculous feats in the air saw Harry hopping off of the school broom and onto jelly legs, as he levelled out from a near expertly executed, fifty-foot dive, with Neville Longbottom's Remembrall in hand. Several cheers meeting his successful landing as Malfoy hopped off of his own broom in scowling disbelief,

"You could have both been killed!" Was the grating scolding of Hermione Granger, the first of his housemates to reach him as the Gryffindor's ran over,

"That's Quidditch for you, Granger." Came Seamus Finnegan with an ear to ear grin, "The fun's in the danger."  
"That was wicked, Harry!" Ron declared with a matching smile and big bright eyes, "You should definitely try out for the team next year, you'll be on there for sure."

Harry's embarrassed blush was wiped from his face when he paled, seeing the tall pointed hat wearing Head of Gryffindor House marching towards them from behind the assembled student. His eyes catching the smug grin from the corner of his eye that lit up Draco Malfoy's face,

"With me, Mr Potter." Professor McGonagall ordered in a severe tone that had the Gryffindor's parting like the Red Sea in subdued and fearful shuffle, leaving Harry Potter open to her harsh hazel glare as he himself shuffled up towards her and followed wordlessly as she turned towards the castle.

Their silent march took them up two flights of stairs to a class being taught by the ever stuttering Professor Quirrel. The turban toting Defense Against the Dark Art's professor levelling a brief, piercing stare at Harry (causing a quick flame of irritating pain to blossom in his lightning bolt scar) as McGonagall asked for Wood, before making a gesture to the door that

"This is Oliver Wood, the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team." His Transfiguration professor pointed to the bemused older student who looked between the two of them with a curious gaze, "I would like to introduce you Harry Potter, I believe I've found you your new Seeker."

Harry looked to his professor in confusion,

"Wh-What is a Seeker?"  
"Nice to meet you Harry, I'm Oliver." Oliver Wood held out his hand and Harry responded with a handshake and greeting, "And a Seeker, my young friend, is a position in a Quidditch team. They are responsible for catching the Golden Snitch and ending the game."

"Now, I am not sure when you've planed your sessions, but you'll be expected to keep up you're your studies whilst you attend training."

"Wha- wait. Don't I get a say in this?"  
"I'm… sorry?"  
"I-I can't afford to be taking on something else right now. I'm barely juggling work and my homework as it is. Piling on Quidditch trainings and matches isn't fair."  
"You have a natural gift, Harry. I believe you could be one of the very best fliers the world has ever seen." Professor McGonagall decreed in a clipped but earnest declaration that caused funny palpitations in Harry's chest, "A place on the house team is the perfect place for you to spring board into stardom Harry."

Harry winced, the idea of stardom (after nearly three months of living with being The Boy Who Lived) utterly repulsive.

"Not to mention that we haven't won the cup for a very long time." Oliver's expression was pained as he spoke, Harry's own face mirroring his as he replied,

"I'm really sorry Oliver Wood, Professor McGonagall." He apologized with a pained expression, flinching and almost caving under their devastated looks, "I understand Quidditch means a lot to you, but I have to focus on staying alive, which means my job has to come first."

With a few awkward seconds of silence having passed, Harry quietly made his exit, turning back the way he had come to leave.

"Hey, Harry." Oliver called from the classroom door and Harry turned back to him reluctantly,

"When you've settled in and've got your stuff sorted, I want you to give it some thought, ok?" He continued once he got Harry's attention, McGonagall was already striding away in the opposite direction, but Wood was smiling a patient and warm smile in his direction, "If you're half as good as Professor McGonagall is leading me to believe, then you'll be a perfect and invaluable fit."

Harry paused before nodding his compliance and walked off without further comment. A little smile of his own lighting up his face.

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"That'll be 25 Sickles, please."

"Ah, hold on, I have this coupon." The pink clad woman chirped out with a toothy smile.

Harry smiled thinly but patiently, knowing full well what he was going to have to say when she pulled out a familiar slip of paper that had been cut out of the magical publication, The Daily Prophet,

"I'm sorry, ma'am. But I'm afraid that we no longer accept the Daily Prophet, 50% off vouchers. That promotion is, unfortunately, no longer running."

'Please don't prove me right. Please don't prove me right.' Harry prayed to himself over and over again, worrying his hands together from beneath the counter as he watched the words sink in for the woman with a held breath,

"What do you- no longer running?"

"Yes ma'am, the voucher has expired."

"Look sweetheart." Harry winced as the woman spoke her words in a sickly sweet, condescending tone, "I'm sure that crook, Fortescue, has told you what your supposed to say when presented with these. But you haven't even looked at the slip of paper so how can you possibly tell me it has expired."

"If it would alleviate your concerns, I would be willing to point to the printed expiration date on the bottom left of the voucher." Harry responded with a smirk he fought to keep on his face,

"Yes, it really would, then you can take it and give me my…" Her words trailed off as she herself viewed the mentioned section of her voucher, Harry allowing smugness to infect his carefully sculpted smile,

"Would you let me see it please, ma'am." Harry held out his hand expectantly and the woman scowled and flung it onto the counter. Harry's smile completing the metamorphosis into a smirk at the petulance as he picked it up, flipped it over and made a big display of dragging his finger over the paper and finding the date, "Aha, there it is. As you can see, right here, it expired on the 10th of October and today is the 11th. Thus, I must regrettably apologise as it is now expired and we are no longer accepting

"Buh… It's only one day out of date. MAKE AN EXCEPTION!" She demanded at volume and missed the narrowing of Harry's eyes and the clenching of his fists under the register,

"I'm sorry, our policy does not allow for such actions. I am sorry." Harry spoke as levelly as he could muster, despite his urge to throttle the woman in question, "Now, that will be 25 sickles. Please."

He spat out the last words and felt, rather than saw, the fearful cringe of the short woman before she rummaged in her pastel pink handbag with a grumble and thrust forth the appropriate currency. Harry taking it with a sweet smile and a sickly 'thanks'.

"May I have your name please, madam? So I can call when your treat has been prepared."

"Madam Delores Umbridge." She sniffed, drawing herself to her full, unimpressive height and attempting to look down her nose at the eleven-year old who stood an inch taller.

"Lovely, if you would please move aside it will be prepared shortly. Next please." Harry glared at her in his peripheral vision and saw her cheeks turn scarlet as he turned his well-practiced smile to the next customer.

A good few minutes later, the foul woman took her three cones with her (with much scowling and muttering),

"She was… foul." Aster, the amber eyed cashier beside him, thin black lips turned down in a grimace as the somewhat toad-like woman waddled away, the girl running talon-like hands through her neck length hair as she glared her away, "Did you see the way she looked at me?"

Harry shook his head, not in denial of seeing it, but in disgust at the Umbridge woman's actions,

"She's disgusting." Harry said as he grabbed a tray of glasses to take to be washed. Settling in to do some cleaning and hoping he'd never run into the foul Dolores Umbridge ever again.

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In hindsight, the two boys should have realised that when Draco Malfoy had challenged Harry to a duel, he: A. Had no intention of turning up and B. Would find some way to get them in trouble instead of him.

Harry and Ron silently embodied the muggle term of: hindsight is 20:20 as they bolted from the schools armoury, fleeing the gasping snarling calls of the schools very own Argus Filch. Neither of them willing to risk detention,

"I'm going to hex off Malfoy's skin when I get ahold of him."

"Just keep running."

"To where? Filch knows this school much better than we do."  
"We need to get far enough ahead of him to lose him then hide somewhere to wait for him to pass." Harry gasped out as he grabbed the wrist of his trailing companion and dragged him around a corner and bolted down the new corridor. No longer seeing the glint of Filch's lantern in the reflection of his glasses.

"In here." Ron hissed, dragging Harry aside and into the first classroom he saw as soon as they rounded the corner. The two stumbling and falling in with Harry kicking the door closed behind them.

"Get out." They heard an order, the two turning from the door and finding themselves at wandpoint. The two's hands raised in surrender as the girl in the Slytherin robes stared them down.

"Rowle?" Ron questioned with a raised brow, her purple eyes narrowing in the candlelit room at being addressed,

"Shut up, or I'll call for Filch." Delphini Rowle snarled aggressively,

"And get in as much trouble with him for being out as we are?" Harry asked lowly, "Exactly, no you won't."

"Yeah, p-put your wand down." Ron butted in,

"I'll still hex you, so don't push it, Weasley." Delphi snarled, jabbing her wand at the red head as a cruel smirk morphed her features, "I learned the silencing charm the other day, I'll blow your balls off and no one will even hear a whisper out of you."

"Just. Put your wand down." Harry's own wand had been raised at the threat and the two locked gazes. A silent agreement to both put there wands back into their robes pockets took place and was acted upon.

"Harry, we should find somewhere else to hide." Ron pleaded with a worried look shot to the quietly glaring Slytherin girl,

"I don't know where Filch is Ron. It's not safe to go out of here just yet. We need to just stick with it and stay in here." Harry placated with a look between Delphi and Ron,

"I wasn't aware I was such terrible company." Delphi drawled in mock hurt as she stepped back and sat down on an unused desk,

"Well, you are a Snake." Ron spat, and Delphi raised her brow at his comment,

"So?"  
"So you wouldn't know, would you?" Ron's smug sneer rolled onto his face, "You spend all day with the scum of the scum, thinking that they are good company."

Delphi's bored expression turned unimpressed,

"If you think that I enjoy hanging around those buffoons then you are dumber than they are." She glared and folded her arms in clear irritation.

"So why do you?" Harry asked, wincing when her loathsome gaze fell onto him,

"Because of people like him, treating us like we're evil just because we were sorted into Slytherin."

"It's not like you've proven that you aren't."

"How has she proven us she has?"

Betrayed, Ron turned to Harry without a shred of comprehension,

"Whose side are you on?"  
"Look Ron, I should have said this on day one, but I don't understand how every member of Slytherin is evil just because a few dark wizards came out of their house."  
"It's not some of them Harry. It's all of them!"  
"Merlin was a Slytherin." Delphi softly stated almost dismissively

"What?!" The boys exclaimed in unison, turning to the girl who now was reaching into a book bag by her feet and leisurely hurled a book their way. Harry plucking from the air and Ron taking it from him.

"Page 394." She trilled in an uncharacteristically cheery tone,

"What is this?" Ron asked scathingly as he turned the tome in his hands with

"Hogwarts: A History you absoloute dunce." Her cheeriness vanished,

"It's just talking about werewolves and stuff." Harry murmured as he surveyed the page with a confused expression,

"Wait, I mean 384."

"Idiot." Ron spat out,

"OI!" She replied,

"SHH!" Harry glared at the two, whose faces turned pink at the reprimand, until they looked appropriately guilty before looking down at the book in question and murmuring the 'Lumos' spell for a bit more-light, "Yeah, she's right Ron. Merlin was a Slytherin."

"Give it 'ere." He scowled and took the book and glared down at the passage before his eyes widened and he somewhat blanched, "Bloody hell."

"Apology accepted."

"Sorry for doubting you, I guess." Harry shrugged at Delphi's sarcastic response, the girl in question rolling her eyes and slipping off of her desk.

"Yeah, whatever." She murmured and slung her bag onto her back and held out her arm, Harry quickly slipping the book from his friends grasp and stepping over to return it to her, "Thanks, I guess."

"Not doing yourself any favours there, Delphini."  
"On first name basis now, Harry." Harry winced, "Guess not."

"Fine, Rowle. But the point stands that if you are adamantly against Slytherin's negative reputation, carrying yourself in such a way is not proving anyone any better."

"Surprised you could string together such an eloquent sentence."

"FORGET IT THEN!" Harry surprised her as he threw up his hands and turned to leave, Slipping over to the door with Ron in tow, "Night, Rowle."

They slipped out into the corridor before immediately hurling themselves back in when a lantern bobbed into few from the end of the corridor,

"HOW IS HE STILL HERE." Ron hissed with his back against the door,

"This way idiots. Unless you want to be caught." Delphini hissed, the pair turning to see her holding up a tapestry located behind the teacher's desk at the end of the classroom, crouched in a small passageway behind the fabric and jerking her head to get them to follow her.

They looked to the shaking doorknob, then to Delphini behind the tapestry and bolted. Leaping into the space and letting the tapestry flap back into place. The area was wide enough to allow two of them to stand side-by-side but was engulfed in inky darkness with an icy breeze slicing through from both ends. They stared back at where they had come from before scurrying off into the darkness just as Filch slammed open the door with a loud exclamation of 'AHA!'

"Thanks, Rowle." Harry whispered as they slipped out on the other side into another unused classroom, instead flopping out of the cramped space from behind a vacant portrait of an Elizabethan bedroom and onto the dusty floor.

"Yeah."

She strode off, Ron making a noise of indifference as he slipped to the ground and looked after the girl with confusion at her sudden attitude,

"Wait, what's that?" Harry wondered aloud, following Delphi's path with his eyes,  
"Checking your makeup, Rowle?" Ron called as she approached a golden framed mirror in the centre of the room. All the desks and chairs having been stacked and shoved against the walls in order to give the mirror centre stage, as if it were some sort of exhibit. Delphini stepped over a snow white drape, lazily laying on the ground, without a glance as she looked up in it, the pair of boys following along mutely.

"What's the big deal, Rowle. You've got a real intense look on your face right now." Ron asked as he looked to her then to the crystal clear glass, "Wow, hey! In this mirror I'm head boy! Look, I'm Quidditch Captain too, there's the cup in my hand. Do you see?"

Harry shook his head. As Harry looked up into it with wide, unbelieving eyes, Ron wasn't in the mirror, he was. On the left a bespectacled man who looked like him and a woman with fiery red hair and his emerald green eyes on his left. James and Lily Potter, his parents.

"D-Do you think this mirror shows us the future?" Ron gasped out without looking away,  
"No. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." Delphi almost whispered her reply,

"What the hell was that? Some sort of curse?" For the first time since witnessing it, Ron looked away as he shrunk from Delphini in fear,

"NO, you idiot. What incantation would be that long and ridiculous, you dunce?!"

"Maybe a spell to turn rats yellow?" Harry smirked and Ron's ears visibly turned red in the low light,

"Shut up Harry."

"But what is that?" Harry ignored him, peering away from his own reflection in reluctance,

"It says I show not your face but your heart's desire."

Delpini was surprised when Harry simply sighed and looked at the mirror mournfully,

"I thought so." He sighed out with a heavy expression,

"What do you see?" She quietly inquired,  
"My parents. They left me, and I don't know why." Harry said quietly, Ron visibly surprised whilst Delphini's expression was pinched by pain, "I've only seen them in pictures in the newspaper."

"I don't know what mine look like. I was left with a foster mother as a baby, I don't even know their names."

Harry turned to her with a similar expression,

"I'm guessing you see them though."

"It's just shadows, I don't even have enough imagination to imagine myself parents. But I know that its supposed to be them and some friends."

"That's what you want? Family and friends?" Ron piped up in incredulity, the two turning to him in surprise,

"Not all of us literally want the world." Delphini scowled,

"I'd be happy with that as well. More than happy." Harry breathed out, looking longingly at the mirror version of his parent, his own hand rising to his shoulder when his father's hand settled there on his reflection. Looking to the empty space and feeling a sharp stab at his heart. Dropping his hand and cursing himself for the shred of hope that had blossomed for the brief second,

"My friends call me Delphi." Delphini whispered, "Or the ones I did have when I was little."

"Like the seers?" Harry asked, surprising the girl who turned and raised an eyebrow,

"You don't strike me as someone with even a passing knowledge of Ancient Greece."

"Looks can be deceiving, history was my favourite subject in junior school." Harry scoffed, a hand settling onto his chest in mock hurt,  
"Too bad Binns turns it into a snore fest." Delphini grumbled,

"A literal one." Harry mused aloud and the two snickered.

"So, may I call you Delphi?" Harry asked after a quiet contemplative pause in which the three of them beheld their deepest dreams in the magical mirror. Delphi watching her reflection's face change as she was stunned at the question, and its silent implications,

"I… I don't know. CAN you?" She strangled her surprise and smirked, waggling her eyebrows as Harry turned to her with an unimpressed smirk of his own,

"You're an absoloute ass, Delphini Rowle." Harry spat out, a toothy grin splitting his face as he beheld the girl beside them, "I think I'm going to like you."

She mirrored his expression. Ron looked on in disbelief, blind to one of the shadows by Delphi's reflection morphed into the grinning, green eyed visage of Harry James Potter.

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* * *

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Harry glared, blindly and unimpressed as he hung upside down with his glasses on the floor. The feeling of rope bound around his ankle and holding him aloft just on the other side of the Fat Lady's portrait as the Gryffindor's laughed up a storm at his misfortune,

"Nice one, brother mine."

"Not too shabby yourself, brother mine."

"Hi Harry, you ok?" A familiar voice found his ears after the two mischievous lines prior,

"I'd be better if I could see." He glared at the brown unfocused blob in front of him who quickly scrabbled down to retrieve his glasses and place them on his face,

"Is this your play, Oliver? Bully me into joining the team?" Harry glared and watched the older boy freeze and gape at Harry's unimpressed glare,

"Whu- What? No! I… I just…"

"Our dear captain has been desperate to speak to you, but unable to catch you. So, he asked our teams lovely Beaters, who double as this schools resident fools, to set a little trap for you." The brunette girl spoke up, "Hi, I'm Katie"

"Trap is a very strong word." One of the two redhead who had spoken prior

"This is a very strong rope. _Trapping_ me in place." Harry glared, the two redheads grinning impishly and fist bumping each other. He sighed tiredly, "Nice to meet you Katie. Are you a Chaser then?"

"Uh huh! Joined this year, I'm a second year." She responded gleefully, grinning brightly before settling into a comfortable smirk, "You can call me 'senpai' if you like."

Harry's eyebrows knitted together in massive confusion,

"Why would I call you that? Is it your last name or something?" He asked in utter bewilderment, the feeling deepening as she visibly deflated and a few of his housemates laughed again,

"Welp, I guess Harry Potter is a normie." She sighed, looking genuinely disappointed as she stepped back a bit. Harry feeling affronted for what he perceived as a slight and a bit disheartened, "Shame, you're so cute as well."

"I think we should get back on topic." Oliver drew attention to himself as he stood with his hands on his hips and stared down the hanging Gryffindor, "I've seen the memory of your little maneuverer, I don't think even the great Charlie Weasley could have pulled off a fifty foot dive. Let alone at eleven on his first broom lesson."

Harry winced when he heard stunned gasps and whispers spreding around the common room from his other housemates, trying to drown them out he spoke up,

"Who's Charlie Weasley?" Harry asked, convinced he must be one of Ron's older, graduated, brothers,

"Our big bro." The redheads spoke in unison, "He was the teams Seeker whilst he was here, one of the best we've ever had."

'So, they're the twins, Fred and George.' Harry mused internally, not having met Ron's older brothers before.

"Yes, I got to play with him. He was incredible, could have played for the national team if he really wanted. Instead he got into dragon taming." Oliver shrugged and his posture radiated disappointment, "Although I think he wasted his talent, I respect his wishes. But every fibre in my body refuses to allow who I see to be his second coming not reach the truly glorious potential he is destined for!"

Oliver's eyes glimmered with light and he pointed a righteous finger at him as he made his heated declaration,

"You, Harry Potter, are going to be an incredible Quidditch player. A walking testament of the glory of the game!" Oliver continued with passion that made Harry blush crimson, "And I'll get you there, no matter if you can't make every training session cause of your work."

"It's not really about missing training, I only work weekends. It's more getting the time off work to play matches on a Saturday." Harry admitted with a blushing sigh, "Mr Fortescue is really nice allowing me to have a job in the first place. Palming off all he's done for me just to go fly around on a broom for a day feels… wrong."

"No need to worry though." Katie placated warmly,  
"Yeah, Oliver completely went behind your back," Fred started,

"Found out where you worked," George continued,

"And sent a friendly little letter begging you to be part of the team." Both announced together with ear to ear grins, "Isn't that great?!"

Harry paused as the display struck him momentarily dumb, before their words sunk in,

"You what?!"

"I erm… Sent Mr Fortescue a letter to ask for you to be allowed onto the team." His bravado vanishing instantly, like a carpet being pulled from beneath his feet, as he suddenly became a blushing sheepish mess,

"Give me it."

"The… letter?"

"Yes, you colossal fool, hand it over." Harry roared and the older boy leaped a foot back, scrambled around and ran up towards the boys dormitory,

"Th-That wasn't very nice, Harry." Hermione Granger surprised him as the others laughed at their teams Captain, the girl glaring up at him unimpressed,

"What isn't nice is going behind peoples back for your own selfish reasons, Hermione." Harry replied with some heat, "I don't have to be all pleased about it. No matter why they did it or who."

Hermione opened her mouth, seemingly to retort, but had nothing to say and simply folded her arms and strode away. Harry rolling his eyes at the bookworm's departure before turning back to the staircase as Oliver ran back down with a short sheet of parchment in hand. Harry grabbing it from him and flipping it around in order for him to read,

 _ **Dear, Mr Wood**_

 _ **I must admit, the passion in your words and the horrific plight my old Houses Quidditch team now finds itself in truly moved me almost to tears. It is rare to hear news of this sort from the castle in this day and age (the downsides of maturity, I'm afraid) but to hear this devastating tale AND finding that I hold the key to turning it away from tragedy was the only thing that kept me from bawling myself dry.**_

 _ **You have my blessing, you Mister Potter is yours to train into Seeker of devastating performance and skill. To mold him into the man who will lead our glorious houses proud team to the Quidditch Cup it rightfully deserves.**_

 _ **But I must warn you, as for his character reference, Mister Potter has a… quirk…**_

 _ **I warn you, he is an incredibly kind and warm hearted young man, a fast learner and a hard worker of such a caliber that he could turn the Hufflepuffs Slytherin green. But he is massively stubborn, I know this first hand and warn that it is not me you should beg but him. If he decides he does not wish to join your team then I am afraid you are out of luck, my young friend.**_

 _ **I wish you luck and will be coming to see the games as often as I can manage regardless of the outcome.**_

 _ **With compliments,**_

 _ **Florean Fortescue**_

Percy Weasley started in horror as he trekked down the stairs of the boy's dormitory and found a first year hung upside down with most of the house forming a semi-circle around his suspended form, the boy looking to be holding in tears as a piece of parchment slipped from between his fingers.

"What on earth is all this!" The prefect demanded in fury as he stormed through the crowd, the Gryffindor team turning in surprise at his approach (missing Harry wiping a sleeve over his eyes to dry them surreptitiously),

"It was them!" Katie quickly jabbed a finger at the twins who nodded gratefully at their teammate and smirked at their elder brother.

As Percy scolded his brothers, Harry pulled himself up towards the ceiling and wordlessly untied the rope that bound him to one of the light fixtures. Quickly rolling and landing in a crouch, gasps and surprise accompanying his movement.

"My cousin and his friends did that to me once, when I was little." He explained, Harry scowled at the memory and walked up to Oliver, "My work will always come before the team, but I do promise I will give training and every game 100%."

Oliver looked down in surprise before scooping up his hand and almost shaking off his arm with a sun bright grin,

"That's all I need from you, Harry Potter." He declared with teary eyes, "Welcome aboard."

Their assembled Housemates cheers and applause shook the glass of the windows and summoned up McGonagall to check for the source of the racket. They partied that night as if they had already won the cup…

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* * *

.

"What are you two idiots doing?" Delphi asked Ron and Harry after rushing over to them. The girl having caught them splitting off from the panicked mass of students and caught Harry's desperate expression as he spoke to Ron, "And why do you look like you're about to do something monumentally dumb?"

"Hermione didn't come to the feast, she's been crying in the toilets."

"So wha- she doesn't know about the troll!" Delphi surmised immediately, "We need to tell a professor."

"We need to go and get her."

"Harry, you're not Ron, don't be an idiot."

"Telling adults ANYTHING is no guarantee that they'll do anything. And the longer we wait the longer we leave Hermione completely ignorant to the troll that could be tracking her down."

"Fine." Delphi snapped, "You go find her and try and get her out safely, I'm grabbing the first professor I find and sending them your way."

"Cowar-"

"Thanks Delphi, we owe you one." Harry responded earnestly (interrupting the scowling Ron) and turned to run. Leaving the girl and his other chasing friend in his wake as he sprinted off. Delphi allowing herself to wallow in the warm feeling that had blossomed from Harry's gratitude for a moment before peering round.

"Professor Flitwick!" She called several times over the noise before the diminutive turned from directing his Ravenclaws to her,

"What is it my dear?" He asked distractedly, splitting his attention between his students and her as best he could, until Delphi began her speedy explanation and he stared up (wide eyed) at his almost panicked student,

"Those reckless fools." He all but growled, treating the Slytherin to a mouth of surprisingly sharp teeth before he turned and waved over a trio of other professors. One stumbling over stinking of aged sherry and looking quite lost behind her thick glasses, another with dark eyes, hair and skin who Delphi quickly recognized as Professor Sinistra and a third in red robes with thin black hair and fairly pale complexion. Flitwick quickly informed the trio of the situation, Delphi learning that the clearly tipsy first professor was Professor Trelawny and the third stern looking woman was Professor Vector. The three quickly drawing wands and marching off in the direction the boys had ran,

"Miss Rowle, you will join your housemates and return to your common room."  
"Not a chance, Professor Flitwick." Delphi refused the Charms Professor with vehemence, "Not only are those two my friends, but the troll was seen in the dungeons. You know, the same place that the troll was seen?"

The quartet flinched at that realization and a tremor of indecision ran through them all,

"Filius, we are running out of time." Vector's voice, firm and cold drew their attention back to the task at hand, "If she follows she follows, we need to get those three students out of harms way then we can consider the others. The longer we wait-"

Smashing echoed up the corridor followed by a furious roar and a loud SLAM.

'Harry…' Delphi's mind went blank as she shoved past her teachers and towards the mentioned bathroom, ignoring the calls for her to stop as he saw scattered armour and wet muddy footprints far larger than any humans could ever be. Her heart in her throat as she ran and it all but stopped when she found the bathrooms door off of its hinges and on the floor against the opposite wall.

"Harry!" she screamed as she threw herself over the doorframe and started at the figure of a gigantic mountain troll, the loincloth wearing gargantuan being flat on its side with a thick heavy wooden club lying atop its head as it lay in unconsciousness. The Slytherin breathing heavily as adrenaline rammed through her and she scouted around for,

"Delphi!" He called her name and she turned to see him, wand out beside Ron and the teary eyed but relieved Hermione Granger, the Professors filing in behind her and all but lunging at the trio to check for injuries as she allowed herself to breathe out a breath in complete relief. Sharing a shaky smile with Harry once she caught his eye, hoping that her happiness at finding him alive and well was felt by her friend as she smiled.

His smile made her think so.

.

* * *

.

She drew up to the counter as if she were floating across the floor. A pale blue summer dress with a matching sun hat swishing as she moved, her snow white hair tied back in a long ponytail by a spectacular looking hairpiece shaped like a snowflake. Her hair, stunningly, matched in colour and blemishless tone by her pure, paper white skin.

"Good afternoon, may I help you?" Harry was able to ask after shaking off his awe of the young woman (looking to be about a year or two older than him)

"Ah, um. Forgive me, I wish to peruse the menu for a bit longer." She spoke in a soft monotone, her expression not shifting from the slightly disconcerting empty mask she wore,

"N-Not a problem. Please take as much time as you need and call for me when you have made your decision." Harry responded with a bright smile, slightly surprised at the silent widening of her eyes as he made to serve another customer.

"You are exceedingly polite."

Harry started in surprise at her sudden declaration roughly five minutes later. The porcelain woman the only one present on her side of the counter as she spoke in her soft monotone.

"Erm, thank you." Harry replied with a bit of disconcertment,

"I am surprised, not once did you falter whilst serving that other woman."

"Which one would that be?" harry asked in confusion, having served quite a few as he had tackled the sudden line to the door on the surprisingly sunny and warm November afternoon.

"The hag?"  
Harry's mouth morphed into an 'o', the boy remembering the shambling, somewhat… unattractive, woman he had served just after speaking to her,

"Indeed, we are not used to such an attitude in our walks of life." She spoke in a firmer monotone, stating the depressing fact that had Harry surprised,

"Why though?"

"Because we are not human." She declared,

"Just because we aren't of the same species shouldn't mean we don't treat you like people. You are." Harry insisted heatedly, "Not just here but everywhere. You are one of our customers, so I won't be treating you any different."

"Ah, so your politeness is simply a part of your role." The woman seemed disappointed as she spke,

"No, of course it isn't. I'm being paid to sell you ice cream, not be polite. You get that for free." Harry declared with a bit of smirk, though it fell at the porcelain woman's raised eyebrow, "And Aster, back there in the stock room, is a lizardman. He's not just my colleague, he's my friend. I'm not going to bad mouth people just because they aren't like me. It's stupid."

"I see."

Neither of them said anything for some time, Harry feeling somewhat suffocated by the awkward atmosphere he found himself in after her two-word response,

"E-Erm… have you decided on an order?" He tried, and her light eyes turned from the menu above to lock gazes with him quite intimidatingly,

"I am attempting to better acclimate myself to warmer temperatures." She declared,

"So, you came to an ice cream parlour?"

Her pale white cheeks transitioned quietly to a pale rose though her expression and cadence did not shift,

"I... I believed the juxtaposition of the two temperatures would make the experience more... tolerable." Harry noticed a slight tremour and increase of speed to her speech that made Harry softly grin. His eyes flicking down to see the floor around her feet quickly being covered in a layer of ice and frost,

"Then can I recommend a sundae with a warm topping? Oh, and could I get a name to call you by for when it is ready?" He asked, unperturbed,

"That would be... acceptable." She replied somewhat stiffly before offering her name, "And you may refer to me as Yukio."

Harry grinned more broadly at her embarrassment, noting her fidgeting hands she hid by her thighs and the still pink tint to her porcelain white cheeks. Smiling as he watched her take the order and eat small careful spoonful's in a table by the door from the corner of his eye,

"Aww, does Harry have a crush?" Aster popped his head around the door frame to catch his co-worker smirking, his dark, scaly reptilian ears flicking with mirth,

"She's very cute." Harry responded softly, momentarily shocking Aster with his blase admission as he made to take the used glasses to the backroom on a black tray.

"What made you work here?" Yukio's flat tone catching Harry's attention as he passd by, the boy stopping to turn and pay attention. Carefully choosing his words before he replied,

"I am in a complicated situation, I jumped at the first job opportunity I could find."

"Do you regret it?"  
"Not at all." Harry said with a smile, Yukio nodded softly and scooped up another miniscule spoonful to devour.

"I, myself, find myself in a… complicated position." She spoke up, Harry pausing in his task of clearing up used crockery to listen, "I wish to start a business, but very few are willing to back a monster financially in any endeavor that isn't..."

"Sexual." Harry flatly completed her sentence as he swept a cloth over a neighbouring table and ignored her shocked expression, "I'm aware of how deviants like to exploit demi-humans and monsters for sex."

She paused and looked up at him with a pensive, calculated look,

"Are you... not human?" She asked in a slow curious voice,

"No, I am human. I just-"

"Are you certain?" She interrupted quickly, her eyes were searching and held him still, "I do not mean to offend. But there is something about you..."

"Mr Potter. I do hope you are getting work done over there." An amused voice called from behind the counter,

"Ah, yes Mr Fortescue." Harry turned and called a bit bashfully to the mirthful face of his boss, "Sorry, Miss Yukio. I'm pretty sure I am a human, call if you need anything ok."

"Erm, may I take your name?" She called as he moved to head back to the counter. Turning in surprise and immediately noting the pink returning to her face and the sharp decline in the temperature, "I-I may not be using it to call for an order but I would appreciate if I had one to call you by, as you know mine."

"My name is Harry Potter, Miss Yukio." He said and offered a quick, elaborate bow to the lady that rewarded him with a small, thin, amused smile when his head dipped back up, "Please enjoy your treat."

"And you the rest of your day, Mr Harry Potter." She replied back, a happy and amused inflection rippling through her speech.

Harry smiled as he returned to work, though he felt an odd ache in his chest when she left. A warm smile thrown his way cutting through her icy demeanor as she stepped out, leaving Harry to wonder (staring after like a heartbroken, lovestruck puppy) if he would ever meet the lovely Yukio ever again…

.

* * *

.

 **Poor Harry, I wonder if his little crush will ever be back in his life ever again…**

 **Bye bye** **x**


	12. Chapter 12

**muratira: Thanks l really appreciate your review x  
And with that scene in particular, I drew away from Harry's perspective to leave it up for interpretation. I don't want to just dictate to you all what everyone is feeling.  
And for your second question, I take offense at being called a bastard :P  
DRAGONDAVE45: Well... you were right about 'feathers'...**

 **Zathol: Productive is the word. Especially regarding the one true Ice Queen XD**

 **ChimaTigon: No offense, but if you haven't already I'd suggest just looking it up.**

 **Thanks again starboy454 and Spartan3909 for tuning in once again and for your support.  
Thanks for all the reviews and nice words on the last two chapters (and the support throughout), the story has hit 6,000 views!  
Thank you very much for following along x**

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* * *

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A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:

Chapter 12

Ron Weasley had never had a class on the seventh floor of Hogwarts castle, neither had most. It was a commonly accepted fact that the centuries two magical wars had viciously decreased the amount of wizards and witches born in to this world. An unpleasant fact, but as were many facts of life. Thus, Hogwart's school's previous century practice of dividing lessons of each year group with the different floors of the castle a moot and unfair practice when the student body of the twentieth century was so incredibly reduced in comparison with the nineteenth.

So, when Ron had, furtively of course, asked around for abandoned classrooms and places to be alone he was very quickly directed towards the unpopular, shadowy unused areas of the dungeon and the brighter, more appealing rooms situated on the schools seventh floor.

The abundance of empty classrooms in the castle was at its most painfully clear that Wednesday evening as Ron checked for a room to use. Every door opening after being forced, knobs and hinges stiff from years of abandonment and neglect,

'What is Filch ever paid for? Caretaker my ass.' Ron thinking to himself as his head peaked into another dust and dirt covered room. His curiosity piqued to a degree that he wished to see how many of the rooms were filthy and unoccupied.

All of them. The answer was every last one of them. Of the several dozen rooms absolutely none of them had seen anything close to cleaning or active use under the redheads disbelieving eyes.

Ron wondered was there even any use for the seventh floor? What could possibly be on it.

"Besides these trolls learning ballet?" Ron muttered aloud, scathingly as he stared in disbelief at the clumsily pirouetting, tutu-toting mountain trolls on the magical tapestry pinned to the wall.

Ron shook his head, clarity and focus returning at the gesture as he turned towards the nearest door and forced it back open again. Walking in and kicking it shut behind him, a quiet whisper of a Locking Charm and jab of his wand hopefully ensuring he would not be disturbed.

He next shifted back his arms and shoulders to allow his school rucksack to fall to the ground behind him as he rolled up the sleeves of his robe and wracked his mind for some cleaning spells. Vaguely remembering the incantations his mother would sometimes mutter as she dithered and bothered around the Burrow.

He was wasting time at this point, putting off the inevitable. It was likely a subconscious mechanism borne from his natural survival instincts to give him time to talk himself out of summoning her.

The Queen of Hearts…

[FLASH]

 _Shattered stone and bent metal lay around Ronald Weasley's prone form, the redheaded boy silent and softly breathing on the black and white ground. His whole body aching with hot pain as he lay on the floor of the giant chessboard, his friends chasing Snape through to the next room._

 _With tremendous effort, linked with massive pain from the battered limb he used, Ron rolled over and away from the mess. Gasping cold breaths as he stared up at the dark, distant ceiling._

 _She was beautiful._

 _She appeared before him after a blink, her arrival so silent and sudden that Ron stared in stunned silence at the perceived apparition._  
 _She was probably about his height, dressed in a frilly black dress with red laces and frills to match her blood red pupilless eyes. Her face was rounded and warmed by a sweet smile, her skin a soft untouched caramel, her hair a ghostly pale white that fell down to her small waist._

 _The only glaring notes of her inhumanity were her blood red eyes, slightly pointed ears and the large pair of wings in the same pale shade as her waist length locks._  
 _"D-Demon." Ron gasped aloud in horror, greeted with a pout and narrowed eyes from the addressed._

 _"I don't know. A very naught seer I know told me that little Ronald Weasley would get me a new toy in the near future. So I thought I'd introduce myself."_  
 _"Who are you?" He croaked his question. She smirked playfully and answered._

 _It hurt._

 _Her lips moved and… words came out. The noise that greeted him could and should not have been made by human vocal cords. He ignored fiery pain in his body as he slammed his hands harshly against his ears. The attempt in vain as it did nought to ease his pain or muffle the sound, blood seeping from the unending abuse._

 _It felt like eternity, but was only a handful of seconds, and the creature stopped._  
 _"Hmm, it seems even my name holds too much power for mortal ears to hear. I'm impressed." She chirped and clapped her hands together in delight, Ron's eyes (instinctively scrunched closed in agony) squeaked open to behold her grinning visage, "You should be dead twice over this evening, Ronald. Yet you aren't. I look forward to seeing you around, call me!"_

 _She blew him a kiss in the air and vanished just as quickly and abruptly as she had arrived. Leaving Ron on his back on the giant, abandoned chessboard. Left to lie throbbing all over with bleeding ears and many questions..._

[FLASH]

A succubus, one with a name human ears should never be subjected to, had appeared before him the year before. Two seasons ago as he and his friends had made it their mission to protect the philosophers stone from the nefarious Professor Quirrell.

Though he had received no indication at the time, nor prior, nor post, that the being that he had encountered was the same one who had left the note on his bed, he was certain that the two were one in the same for reasons he would never be able to articulate.

'Call me, she said. She said that I had to call her.' His musing was silent and in his thoughts alone, his thoughts not spoken aloud because he daren't speak. The boy's wand moving through the air as he quietly intoned spell after spell, rapidly running out of things to clean as he stepped and swirled about the room like a dejected ballroom dancer.

The spotless room left a hollow feeling in his chest and a sour feeling in his mouth. A mouth that opened to allow a shaky inhale and exhale as his lips narrowly parted.

He spoke a name. The name. The name that made his ears bleed and the glass of the windows that allowed the orange and crimson of the setting sun illuminate the room crack under a magical pressure and force foreign to their very plane of existence.

The effect was instantaneous. He didn't see her, but there she was all the same. Just over his shoulder with a giggle like bells.

"My my, dearie! You sure took your time to get in touch." The voice was sweet like honey, the tone doing naught to hide the knifelike edge beneath her words, "But I will say, you couldn't have called at a better time…"

He refused to turn just yet, his breathing shaky and shallow in the face of the viscous darkness he could just FEEL at his back. But he was certain that despite his flimsy evidence to the fact that he was indeed in the presence, of the Queen of Hearts.

.

* * *

.

The jingle of the bell above the door signified Harry's bowed head entry into Ollivander's.

"Ah! Mr Potter. A pleasure to see you again."

The voice was deep and held both genuine, amicable warmth and simultaneous stony seriousness

"Oh erm, sorry sir, I seem to have forgotten your name." Harry awkwardly greeted the tall, earring wearing Auror from the other night,

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mr Potter." Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted, offering his hand for a warm and gentle handshake, "And I believe we still owe one another a chat."

Before Harry could respond, a second voice cut in,

"And I believe things have been ironed out perfectly."

Ollivander, striding from behind the counter with his hands behind his back, an unusually arrogant stride replacing his eccentric bounce. Kingsley's gaze, as it turned from the boy whose hand he still held, turned from warm and comforting to guarded in a blink. His suspicion of the wand maker

"I told the ministry about your little jaunt with Druella the previous night, how you got a bit scared and cast all those spells."

"They're willing to make you an exception to the law on Underage Sorcery as long as you remain in my employ." Ollivander cheerily spoke, though his eyes held a hard quality that chilled Harry to the bone, "

"I… erm. So, I can u-use magic outside of school then?"  
Kingsley looked between the two with an unreadable expression.

Harry wondered if he should tell him what happened, come clean about the entire situation. But the incredible terror and slimy feeling of humiliation that remained from the encounter, combined with the fact that Ollivander clearly did not wish for the information to come to light, his suddenly grossly intimidating presence choking out any words of defiance. Leaving Kingsley to sigh as he looked over to him,

"Indeed, Mr Potter. Due to the perceived danger of your… employment and what the Ministry has been made aware of regarding your living arrangements, Madam Hopkirk has seen fit to make an exception to allow you to defend yourself should you feel the need." Ollivander spoke over Kingsley as he opened his mouth to speak, a quiet glare thrown over his shoulder accompanied Kingsley's mouth clamping shut. The man drawing himself to his full, impressive height as he turned to the wandmaker in question,

"Be that as it may, I must inform you that the purposeful endangerment of your employee's life will be responded to with the full force of the Ministry's authority."

Ollivander nodded his head and swirled around and walked behind the counter, between the shelves and out of sight.

"I must admit, I don't know what happened and my superiors have been very clear on the fact that Ollivander and his associates have settled this situation on your behalf." His expression was twisted into a disgusted grimace, but his eyes held a heavy sense of resignation,

"Associates?"

"Whoever it was who escorted you on Monday evening, the woman Ollivander made mention of her. And that Unyi."

'Druella.' Harry thought immediately, a cold feeling settling over him at the mere thought of the princess,

"I… see." Harry nodded,

"I've been told by my superiors that this case has been closed and I am not to interfere further, but I want you to have this." Kingsley's tone was blatantly pained

A card was placed in Harry's hands, surreptitiously as if Kingsley was worried about it being seen. Harry didn't look at it once as he slipped it into his pocket and the Auror continued his explanation,

"You look as if you are not ready to talk about things but understand that no matter what happened or how hopeless you believe a situation to be, you can be helped and protected." His dark eyes bored into Harry with a frightening intensity, Harry couldn't hold them for long and didn't dare look into them as Kingsley's hands settled gently onto his shoulders, "Just speak my name whilst holding the card and I promise I'll come running. I'm an Auror, it's my job to protect you."

Harry committed his warm gentle smile to memory as he nodded his understanding, giving quiet valedictions as the man softly exited the building. The high echo of the bell not at all comforting to the boys ears.

"Ollie wants to see you." Unyi declared, sat cross legged on the counter with a toothy grin. The chill Harry had felt returned as he followed her into the back of the shop in silence.

The click of the door echoed as he quietly slipped in to Ollivander's work shop. Walls hidden behind shelves that reached up to a ceiling far higher than Harry could see, packed to bursting with a menagerie's worth of parts and pieces that seemed to glare at Harry with wicked intention.

The workshops owner and keeper was fiddling with something or other on a workbench in the centre of the room. Back to the boy who'd entered and not even twitching at his entry.

"I need harpy feathers. There's one called Celestine in a guarded grove in Ireland, you're going to go a pick them up." He quickly ordered without so much as turn of the head,  
"That's..."  
"What?" Ollivander's question was cold, his eyes sharp as he turned to face the boy with a cold, almost furious look,  
"That's... that's all you have to say?"

"I don't make a habit of saying please, Mr Potter."

"Why should I address that?"  
"I-It was your fault!"  
"You took the job, Mr Potter."  
"I'll call the Aurors," Harry heatedly declared, warranting a raised eyebrow from Ollivander before he continued, "There's no way this is legal."

"You've already sent that hardworking Auror on his way." The wandmaker's tone condescending and mirthful, "Are you going to shout for the big bad Auror to come save you after all that?"  
"I can call him now. It would take one word to bring you and your families oh so great legacy crumbling down around you." Harry snarled, bearing teeth in an aggressive sneer that was met with high cruel laughter.

Ollivander's white, silvery flopped back as he through his head behind him in ice like laughter, chest heaving and shaking from the force of the apparent hilarity he saw in Harry's words. Speaking again in a matching tone when he had it under his control,

"I wholeheartedly invite you to tell the Aurors." Ollivander sneered, eyes flashing viciously as he spoke, "See how long the public still adores their precious 'Boy Who Lived' when they find out he is a freak he enjoyed coitus with a magical creature."

"I... I DIDN'T ENJOY IT! It was... horrible." His stomach churned and spasmed violently as he spoke of the night, his physical reactions irrelevant to the terror, pain and confusion that still rocketed through his system,  
"If you didn't enjoy it then why did you climax?"

Ollivander's voice was cold and snide, nostrils turned up and face twisted into cruel smugness as he glared down at the gaping boy. Harry stood shaking under Ollivander's loathsome, unsympathetic gaze without an answer as a slimy, unclean feeling settled across his skin.  
"You chose to perform the actions you performed with Lumaria, and you did so in exchange for a product. Her heart strings. Do you know that this?" He paused with a stone face, "Prostitution, Mr Potter. And that's illegal."

The dark, dirty feeling that had settled onto him was accompanied by a chill down his spine that made his blood run cold,

"So… call Auror Shacklebolt back here if you like, but I won't be the one carted off to Azkaban, boy." He spoke with a hot glare at the quivering, pale boy. Letting his words sink in with an almost approving nod.

"Understand, this location has been in the Ollivander name for a time longer than you will ever be able to count child. I will not allow it to fall apart during my generation." Ollivander jabbed in with another look of condescending distain, "It is quite simple, my child. You are being used."

Ollivander held the steady, furious gaze of the young man for as long as he could muster. Sneering again before speaking in a more formal, scholarly tone,

"I am unable to… physically fulfill my end of the bargain. Which is to provide my spirit energy to the monsters and demi-humans who serve the Demon Lord on this earth."

"Without it, they would die and fade. Leaving her majesty without her loyal followers still on earth." Olivander's expression briefly morphed into a scowl, "Thus we, and all those who require the materials provided from magical beings for our businesses in order to trade, we had to surrender ourselves to whatever beast in question in order to trade our spirit energy for them."

"And then you what, kill them?" Harry was able to spit out, resisting the crushing weight that had settled on him and threatened to shove him to the ground and leave him to sob at the futility of his situation,

"What on earth gave you that idea?" there was a small laugh that infected his words, a product of the old wand makers confusion,

"L-Lumaria." Harry choked out the name, feeling ill just at the memory of that night before glaring at the wand master with an accusatory glare and a snarl, "Druella ripped her heart out of her chest."

"She is a zombie dragon, young Master Potter. Not only is she already dead, thus the removal of her heart means nothing to her, but as a dragon she can grow it back if she really wants to." Ollivander looked down upon the boy with an eyebrow raised. Until he noticed his young employee's soft relief and nodded, a scowl returning to his face with a sharp, "Now get out and get me those feathers."

Once again, the door's harsh closing echoed as Harry exited the office and yanked it shut behind him.

Unyi looked up at Harry as he stumbled over the threshold of Ollivander's workshop in his haste,  
"I'll be going with you this time." She chirped freely, "But just to get you there and back. You play with Celestine, get what we need and call me to pick you up."

Harry glared down at the beaming brownie who was unnecessarily smoothing her moth-eaten dress, her cheery attitude stoking the fire of rage in his stomach,

"Did you know?" He asked lowly, body shaking in restrained fury,

"Huh? Know what?" Unyi's face held a confused and innocent expression for a full second before being split into a smug, sadistic grin, "That when you joined up you were going to be whored out to every magical beast we do business with? Course I did, I've been spending the last few months convincing old Ollie to do so."

His aggressive feelings caused him to take an angry step forth. Harry was rammed against the wall with a jerk of her head, invisible magic pinning him in place.

"I won't hurt you or damage your pretty face…" she cooed sweetly as she pressed the boy further and further back into the wall with an invisible magical force that Harry could absolutely feel was her malevolence. "But don't you dare think you can square up to me, little one."

And he was dropped, unceremoniously to the ground.

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* * *

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"BOO!"

Hermione Granger slammed a hand over her chest and unleashed a strangled shriek, Delphi Rowle snickering as she stepped around the heavy library desk (that Hermione had buried under books and parchment). Hermione glared over at her friend for frightening her out of her deep concentration, and Madam Pince stepped out from between the shelves to shush them aggressively.

"What's all this?" Delphi ignored both the irate librarian and the equally aggravated second year girl, instead gesturing to the mess on the table. The girl addressed morphing from

"Y-You… You wouldn't understand…"

"Let me guess. You are trying to find out information about something you really shouldn't but don't have the confidence to speak about it out loud because of the oddity of it and the fact that you are worried about what people will think and how they will respond to the discovery."

Flabbergasted was a perfect adjective for Hermione's state and response, Delphi's mischievous smirk returning at the expression,

"H-How… What?"

"You may be the brightest witch of our age, but you aren't unreadable. You're still human." Delphi smirked at the other girl for a brief moment before it fell away to a more somber expression, "Though, the fact that I can relate a bit does help."

"R-Relate?" The cogs turned in Hermione's head but she was still stumped on what they could possibly relate on. Her curiosity and worry seemed to treble as Delphi heavily sighed and briefly darted her eyes about to ensure they were alone,

"Stay quiet." She quietly ordered, sweeping the few rolls of parchment and books aside on the table and whipped out her pale, yew wand. She stopped with the magical tool raised and poised to move and looked Hermione in the eyes for a brief time, purple of soft brown until Hermione encouraged her to move on with a silent nod, "Serpentsortia."

The spell was whispered, and her wand briefly ghosted through the air before a black snake popped into existence between the two girls. Hissing and spitting in aggression as its head darted back and forth.

Hermione leaned back quickly in her chair, eyes wide and never leaving the dark serpent that now hissed and coiled on the desk between her and her friend. Not daring to look up at the girl who had summoned it, whose expression was pinched and somewhat hurt at her friends terrified expression, sighing once again before she opened her mouth to speak,

"Be calm. There is nothing to afraid of."

Her words were hisses, harsh and cold and causing Hermione to start and rip her eyes from the serpent to stare in stunned silence at Delphini, her lips moving as those inhuman noises issued forth from her throat,

"You're a parselmouth?!" Delphini flicked her wand with a quiet 'Finite' as Hermione hissed out in incredulity, her own head jerking about as she looked for others before locking eyes with the tiredly smirking girl,

"What gave it away?" She replied, Hermione wanted to glower, but she was still too surprised at the reveal,

"H-How long have you known?"  
"I confirmed it during the dueling club. I wanted to tell Harry, but I was a bit… anxious…" She trailed off, Hermione immediately translating anxious to being afraid,

"There was no reason to be afraid, especially from Harry."  
"Even if he might have thought I was the Heir of Slytherin?"

"Why would he believe you were the Heir of Slytherin?" Hermione did glower at Delphi after she asked her question, arms folding over her chest, "Don't be sitting there thinking that Harry Potter of all people would assume you're an evil witch just because you can talk to snakes."

Delphi opened her mouth to reply before she snorted, and her lips curled into a small thin grin,

"Yeah, it is kind of stupid. I… I dunno." She shook her head and schooled her face once again, looking over at Hermione with an expectant expression, "Well, go on. I showed you mine. What's up with you?"  
Delphi looked down at the thick tomes and ink infested research papers in complete bewilderment. The topics ranging from 'Studies of the Human Eye' to, 'A Basic Guide to Spirits and Seers.'

"Are you having a problem… seeing?" Delphi quietly noticing a common trend in the works before her. Hermione refusing to look up at her after her gaze dropped to the table and muttered her response after a near minute of silence.

"I can… see things. Things that shouldn't be there." Hermione admitted in a voice so small and quiet that Delphi had to really lean in to hear her words, "It used to be every once and a while, but now its constant. Just when I think everything is okay it will happen again. I used to just ignore it, I don't want to be locked away like some nutcase."  
"But you still want to understand it." Delphi nodded, and Hermione mimicked the gesture. A sigh of distress and relief causing the frizzy haired brunette to sag deeply into her chair,

"I just want to know what's happening to me, but… I was scared."

"Scared of what?"  
"Besides people thinking that I'm insane?" Delphi's nod left Hermione with the urge to roll her eyes, before being struck by a raised brow expression, "You're thinking I'm a hypocrite, aren't you?"  
"You can't exactly sit crossed armed and state that me being afraid of what my friends might think was completely unfounded." She murmured with an unimpressed gaze, Hermione's cheeks pinkening before she shook her head,

"You'd all get me to go and get help and they'd take me out of school and have me admitted somewhere."

"Or maybe Pomfrey has something in the hospital wing. You don't know." Delphi responded, trying to remain as level and warm as she could manage, though her words

"Can you just promise to stay quiet?"

"Hermione-"

"Just for a little while!" She insisted, her volume rising just a tad as she panicked. Her eyes darting over to Pince again, the woman flicking an angry eye over to their table once again before again disappearing between the shelves, "J-Just until I figure out what to do."

"You know what to do."  
"And you know what I mean."

Hermione and Delphi stared one another down before the Slytherin sighed in defeat in the face of the stubborn faced Gryffindor.

"Fine." She hissed out, but jabbed an aggressive finger in the girls direction, "But I'm giving you a week to tell someone. Anyone. Before I do. Understood?"  
"A-A week?" she squeaked out a reply, Hermione's face quickly consumed by a crimson flush, "Th-That's not fair!"  
"That's life."

"And that's it!" Came a third, furious hiss. The two girls lunged back from the table as its contents flew up into the air into a cyclone of parchment and paper, conducted masterfully from its scattered piles to distant shelves via the wand work of Madam Pince, "Both of you are being far too noisy. GET OUT."

There were quiet to loud protests as they were ushered from the room, but they were shoved out regardless. The conversation far from forgotten, but definitively put on pause.

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* * *

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This transportation method wasn't like the last. Instead of feeling like he'd been shoved through a straw, Harry was greeted with a violent hooking feeling in his navel and a massively disorientating spinning feeling as he was thrown through time and space. His hand slipping from the dubious smelling sock he had been ordered to grasp as soon as he was slammed into compact, grassy ground.

"Oh… so graceful." Unyi stated sarcastically before snickering, the tiny red head apparently still on her feet as Harry carefully pushed himself to his feet and probed his sore nose gently, "I thought you'd respond better to a Portkey."

"T-There's nothing like grabbing one of Ollivander's nasty, dirty socks, being spun around and slammed into the floor."  
"Sorry, I left my notebook back at the shop, so I can't jot down that particular fetish." Unyi smirkingly retorted before raising an eyebrow at the brief look of confusion on Harry's face, "Aww, does little old Unyi need to tell big boy Harry what a 'fetish' is."

The beautiful scenery and Harry's dark overpowering feelings of loathing and disgust kept red cheeks of embarrassment from appearing, keeping Harry's head incredibly clear. Despite the late hour, the sky was still a crystal-clear baby blue, not a single cloud blocking the light of the warm sun. They had landed in a forest clearing, a carpet of thick soft emerald grass only broken by the occasional patch of buttercups every few feet. Tall trees with thick brown bark and strong grasping branches, their thinner offshoots sharp and twisted like thin skeletal fingers. Their roots lay covered under thick piles of autumn leaves, Harry surprised by the thick canopy of red, browns and yellows still clinging to the higher branches despite the lateness of the year.

"So, harpy feathers." Harry inserted slowly when Unyi stopped to take a breath from her abridged explanation of sexual preferences, her face lighting up in mischief and her entire form bouncing before Harry's very surprised eyes,

"Harpy feathers are actually really uncommon as wand cores, though they are powerful ones." Unyi explained as they walked, the little red head bounced along gleefully besides the reluctant and somewhat sour looking Harry, "They make great wands for the somewhat careless or whimsical."  
"That sounds... dangerous." Harry murmured at the image of a truly carefree wizard or witch.  
"Isn't it?" She called out gleefully, Harry briefly startled at her enthusiasm.

They walked under the shadow of the trees, surrounded on all sides by tall thick trunks and the sound of rustling leaves.

"If it's uncommon, why is Ollivander bothering to get the feathers in the first place?" Harry asked, eyes flicking to what must have been a figment of his imagination in the swaying branches above, "How uncommon is it as a wand core?"

"Statistically speaking, Harpy wands are about one in a thousand. In fact, Ollie's father never had to make one in the fifty years he ran the store."

Harry turned back to her, the girl bobbing along by his knee with a more reminiscent smile as two questions rocketed through his mind: the first, if she knew that then how old WAS Unyi? And the second, which he verbalized,

"If they're that stupidly uncommon, why bother having harpy feathers at all? Let alone making a wand out of them?"  
"Because he knows he's going to need one in the future." Unyi declared without her usual mirth or condescension, surprising the boy by stopping dead in her tracks and cupping her chin in her hand and humming in question, "Harry, do you know what divination is?"

His response took a few seconds as he registered the shift in her demeanour and the seeming randomness of the question, but he nodded stiffly with a curious/confused pout.

"Yeah, the magical method to seeing the future is pretty integral to wand crafting. And, although Ollie is the best in the country, he is a shoddy wandmaker in comparison to others. Especially his own ancestors."

Harry's lips parted to articulate beyond his stunned expression, but ultimately could not form the words appropriate for his surprise. He had heard so many sing the praises of the legendary wand maker Ollivander, but,

"R-Really? Ollivander's actually a bad wand maker?" Harry was able to speak, his mind wandering to his own holstered creation from the man himself. He held no particular fondness for the aged wizard (in fact, a quick fire of hatred seared under his skin at the thought of him and the sight of his equally loathsome assistant) but he had seen no reason to indicate that his life's work was anything short of fantastic. Then again, what did he know.

Unyi winced at the words and shook her head,

"Maybe 'shoddy' was a poor choice in words. Ollie's nowhere near a BAD wandmaker. He just isn't anything special." Unyi sighed quite heavily and clapped her lips between her hands as she carefully though out her next words, "Although Ollie will never admit it, he's not actually that good at divination. He's actually only good enough to make him an above average wand maker. I remember your wand selection, quite clearly actually, that was the poorest display of wandmaking I've seen in the Ollivander family."

She nodded resolutely before her hands fell away from her face and she looked up at Harry with the most serious expression he had ever seen on her face,  
"A good wand selection should take seconds. The best will hand you the correct wand as soon as you walk in through the door, rather than testing wands until they find the right one. Ollie is just good enough to be able to see what wands he needs to make and the ingredients required but has no clue who they will eventually belong to or when they will be sold. He likely has wands in the shop that will never be sold by him."

"I… see." And he did, Harry completely understanding the concept on that explanation alone, "So he basically gets a lot more praise than he deserves?"  
"Precisely." Unyi bobbed her head once before continuing her waltz through the trees, the mud and grasp clutching at her bare feet as she strode ahead and along. Harry quickly falling into pace with her after, slightly smugly, satisfied by the degradation of the wandmakers image at the hands of his alleged partner.

The walk was brief, executed in near silence as they took in their surroundings. Harry walked with nasty feeling of being watched, coupled with paranoid jerks of his head as shadows flitted about in his peripheral vision and heavy branch rustles sent collumns of leaves gliding to the forest floor. The silence only broken when Unyi would stop to ask what the boy was looking at and that he was just imagining things.

The next clearing they reached roughly fifteen minutes of uneasy walking later was far larger, the area was far more picturesque than their arrival point. A lake, stretching out into the distance, the distant tree line a substitute of the horizon at the limit of Harry's vision. Ripples ghosted across the crystal clear with the steady breezes that pushed across the water, said ripples and waves only shattered or halted when they lapped against the shore or silently smacked against the huge boulders and rocky islands that were scattered around within the water, unoccupied and scattered few and far.

The shore line transitioned slowly from the grassy, flower scattered forest floor (broken sometimes by thick, reaching roots) to thick, gravel-like sand and dirt that disappeared beneath the water. Harry looked about him in quiet appreciation, enjoying the view as Unyi began to gush about the locations beauty as Harry took in the surroundings. The boy enjoying the buzz and noise of bees and bugs, the quiet rush of water and the sigh of wind between leaves and the heavy, pleasant scent of grass and wetness.

Harry's eyes fell to the floor in curiosity, morphing to hope and satisfaction at the sight of what they came for. Feathers. Black, blue and white, fluffy and scattered about amongst the dropped leaves and grass. They were big, one feather stunning Harry with a length comparable to his forearm, as it lay heavily on the grassy ground. Harry bending down to scoop one up with a curious, awe inspired expression as he turned it around between his fingers,

"This is it right?" Harry turned to Unyi and showed a blue feather to her. The brownie shaking her head before she spoke again,  
"Yeah, but they're molted feathers no doubt." Unyi stated, "Pretty much useless. We want the fresh stuff."

That seemed to be _her_ cue.

The blur appeared far off in the sky as Harry heard a particularly aggressive rustling of leaves and was subsequently looking up. Noting the fast approaching silhouette internally but the figure moving too fast for Harry to mention it aloud before she arrived. The dark blur screeched through the air and collided heavily with the water with a gigantic splash that frothed and shot water and spray into the sunlit air with a vicious bang.

"Wh-What the-"

Unyi was interrupted as a much closer splash echoed across the lake, this time shattering the clear water from beneath it than above. The two of the shore covered their faces as the spray of the second splash quickly reached them, when their arms dropped a dull thud hit their ears as the being hit the shoreline and stood before them.

Her outfit put the red of embarrassment back where it belonged on both Harry and Unyi's cheeks. Her small plump breasts contained within a jet black bra, straps rising up her pale shoulders to be tied behind her neck. A pair of shorts enclosed her long slim legs, halting halfway down her thighs in an identical shade to her only other article of clothing.

She looked to be a late teen, black hair and piercing, unblinking eyes of a dark grey hue (flicking between the two every few seconds searchingly). Her lips were pale but full and her ears pointed and sharp as they stuck out from between the locks of her glossy, neck length hair. Her face blemishless and undeniably pretty, despite its current intimidating expression.

But those assessments were made in the back of Harry's mind as he took in the decidedly non-human aspects of the skimpily dressed woman before her. Particularly her legs and wings. The latter were easily, individually the size of her, their long central bones curving upwards at their ends (as they extended from the shoulders where her arms should have been) into points that were softened and covered by thick blankets of onyx feathers that grew long and numerous. Fluttering and flattening with every shudder and movement as she softly shook off the water from he impressive dive into the water.

Her legs were also caked in feathers, though only from the knees and below. Her knees looking gossamer soft with their thick plumage that became noticeably thinner and shorter as they travelled down to her feet. Her feet being frighteningly unlike either Harry's or Unyi's in their three toed talons that grasped and cut at the ground beneath her feet sharper than knives.

"H-Hey Celestine!" Unyi breached Harry's quiet, awestruck assessment of the woman before them, identifying the creature (Harry clearly recognized as a harpy) as the one they were seeking, "Lovely entrance, how have you been?"

"Who're you?" She snapped, piercing furious gaze locked on Harry as her talons ground into the dirt with intimidating intensity, Harry's noticing of her angry stance and razer sharp claws causing him momentary terrified pause,

"This is Harry!" Unyi covered for him masterfully, injecting her own brand of bright positivity effortlessly back into her words,

"I was expecting the old man." Celestine replied, not taking her eyes from Harry as she spoke flatly. The lack of emotion in her voice (despite her piercing, evaluative gaze) leaving the two of unsure of what feeling she held for the fact that Harry was present in Ollivander's lace,

"Erm, well, Ollie won't be coming by anymore. He's getting on you see." Unyi replied with a barely noticeable tremor running through her speech. The clear fear amped up Harry's unease, the usually cheerful manner of the brownie a clear staple of her in Harry's eye and the lack of it in the face of this newcomer doing nothing to appease Harry in their current situation, "I-Is this a problem?"

Celestine shrugged, a unique sight to the two of them as the movement ruffled her feathers in an almost alluring wave that originated from her shoulders and billowed down to the tips of her wings. Like a wave of water in the form of glorious black feathers.

"Spirit energy is still spirit energy no matter who I get it from."  
"W-Wait? You're actually… it isn't season right?" Unyi interrogated accusingly, folding her arms over her chest whilst she stared in confusion,  
"No." Celestine stated with a sigh before her expression shifted, "I may not NEED to mate, but he's pretty. I want him."

She was smiling. It wasn't comforting. Baring sharp white teeth in a sadistic, lascivious grin as her dark grey eyes refused to leave Harry (though they did travel up and down his from with a greedy glint). A spike of terror fired through him under the

"Erm, don't you think that's not right?" Harry tried, cursing himself for how weak his voice sounded as it came out. Harry shakily thinking of a way to talk down the staring that screamed lewd aggression, "I mean, if you don't need to m… if you don't need to mate then you shouldn't, right?"

He tried to smile, it felt wrong. It faded fast when he saw that his words CLEARLY had done nothing.

"I really think we should." Celestine declared, nodding to herself after speaking with her savage smile only broadening after she licked her lips.

She lunged, Unyi and Harry having not a single instant to react before razer sharp talons found themselves squeezing around Harry's stiff shoulders. The black wings swatting the brownie aside with a sharp yelp from the tiny girl. Her attempts to regain her footing futile as she was thrown back to the ground with a sharp and vicious gust of wind, the dark harpy taking to the sky with her flailing, struggling prey. Heedless of his screams for help and for her to put him down.

"Erm, good luck Harry. I guess…" Unyi muttered as she saw Harry disappear into the canopy with a rush of air and a shower of crisp leaves. Leaving her alone on the forest floor.

.

* * *

.

She considered a long slow walk up to the bank. She'd wait until late, the alley dimmed in the fading twilight, thus allowing her to slip from shadow to shadow on her approach.

She'd have worn a dark cloak, hooded and black as night that left no indication as to whether she was male or female, the only clue being the crisp 'clack' of her stiletto's as she strode over the cobbles and eventually the cold white marble.

She would approach the teller with a confident stride as she was wrapped in cloth and shadowy mystery,

"State your business." The uncivilized, sharp toothed goblin would growl. His narrow black eyes widening comically as she would through back her hood and divest of her cloak and slam her open palm on the desk between them. Demanding in a smugly satisfied volume to meet with their sovereign or have the building face her incredible wrath.

She really liked that approach, but decided against it.

Next was a more flamboyant approach.

There would have been fire and cracked ground as she appeared in a burst of flame and smoke. The room would instantly darken as the torches and candles were dimmed. The room would reek of brimstone as she would throw her arms wide and announce her presence with absurd bravado, demanding to be taken to their emperor, post haste, lest she massacre the occupants of the building on a demented whim.

But that would give demons, her family (particularly her personally) and the goblins, by extension, a bad name. She had nothing personally against the goblins, and would not wish to cause them any problems (like having the Auror's descending on the Gringotts bank like so many moths to a candle) especially when she

"Listen here witch, it is very clear that you do not apparate within goblin territory." A guard escorted an offended teller with a waggling finger and a snarling disposition a full minute after she appeared in the lobby. The goblin frozen, as if by some kind of magic, when he was close enough to see the face under the hood was clearly not human.

"I'd recommend not taking that tone with me, goblin." She spoke lowly, glaring down at him and smirking in satisfaction at the abject terror that rattled through his body, "Now. I don't have an appointment, but I Princess Druella, fourth born to her majesty the Demon Lord would have an audience with Stormguard."

"You dare speak his name so callously?!" The guard growled out in outrage, his hands tightening on the halberd he quickly gripped and brandished towards her.

Before they fell off.

Blood, crimson and hot, squirting from the still armour encased stumps as the gauntlet wearing hands and the heavy weapon clattered to the ground with heavy metal clangs.

A single raised finger silencing the agonized screams and halting any flails that would have come from the incredible pain the being was suffering as Druella watched on without sympathy, quietly pleased at her work before she flicked her eyes to the now visibly shaking and silently screaming goblin teller who had been sprayed with blood and had finally took his eyes off of the succubus to behold the destruction she had quietly wrought,

"I'd step to it if I were you. I despise being left… unsatisfied."

The squeak of his pointed shoes on the marble floor was music to her ears as he scurried away, Druella smiling appreciatively at he first success of the encounter. Hoping that her subsequent dealings for the evening would pan out with equal measures of success…

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* * *

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 **AH! How good it is to sit in my shitty plastic chair, in front of my actually pretty awesome desk and finally finish a chapter I wanted done this time LAST WEEK.**

 **I'd say Chapter 13, in concept, is about half done. So fingers crossed I finish it this week. But thanks for reading, bye bye.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Well, this was quick.**

 **DRAGONDAVE45: For the first time in pretty much every review you have sent my way, not even close XD I hope you enjoy the lemon this chapter.**

 **Blazingkill: I'm looking forward to continuing on with Ollivander's little… storyline and I hope you'll be satisfied with it's conclusion.**

 **ChimaTigon: If you haven't read the Monster Musume manga then I'm not surprised that you don't know who Yukio is. She is a pretty popular character who appears later in the story when the harem has to leave home for a while, I'd recommend reading it she's one of my favourites.**

 **Thank you again Spartan3909 and starboy454.**

 **I hope you like this chapter, guys. Thank you for all the Favourites, Follows and lovely Reviews. We hit 7,000 views earlier and I'm so glad that you are liking it so far xxx**

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* * *

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 **A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:**

 **Chapter 13**

Not many people would be able to say that they've had sex in a nest. Harry was one of those few.

Though it was uncommon, so were black harpies. A subspecies of the harpy monster species known for their glorious black wings and ferocious temperament,

They mimicked their ancestors and predecessors in their actions and demeanor. Cunning to the point of cruelty, combined with the careless, selfish whimsicality expected of the harpy species. Their fierce intelligence kept them above and beyond the childish and/or slovenly attitudes of their fellows.

They breed almost exclusively in their mating season, gliding and circling through the air like vultures as they sought a way to cleanse the heat of their loins. Descending like bullets when a target had been sited and acquiring their husbands by snatching them u from where they stood and taking them back to their nests to leisurely force themselves upon them at their own rough, violent pace.

For Harry to be snatched up by these usually aggressive monsters and brought back to mate at a time of year when a black harpy would not usually take a husbands, it was very uncommon indeed. Piling them atop the other incredulous mishaps and scenarios that surrounded that day in particular was nothing short of ludicrous.

But, despite how Harry would have argued to the contrary (had he been physically able to), many an outsider would agree this uncommon scenario highlighted that Harry Potter was a lucky young man indeed.

The forest floor was deaf to the noise. Deaf to the wet, fleshy slicks of penetrative coitus. Not hearing grunts, moans and short, breathless (yet sadistically satisfied) laughs. Not knowing that above them, in a nest woven from discarded cloth, thick heavy branches and corrugated metal were a harpy and her human prey locked in vicious, violent sex.

Harry lay beneath Celestine, the second woman to mount him in this way out of the two who had engaged him. The much softer floor of the fabric bottomed nest of the black winged harpy crushing under the weight of the two as they were joined. Celestine bouncing atop Harry, her taloned toes curling and her breath hitching between moans every time the thick dick of her newest prey/lover burrowed within her and battered open her passage in her heady, mindless delight.

His dark trousers and the buttons of Harry's torn open shirt lay scattered around the two of them as his shirt lay open, his lover taking the time to lick her lips whenever she stopped staring at the pleasure buried face of her lover and the point where the two of them were joined.

Her dark wings pinned Harry's arms to the floor, aided by her full weight (though she, as a hollow boned birdman was not incredibly heavy), holding her prey in place as she lasciviously and hopelessly ravished him with sharp harsh shakes of her hips. Slamming her hips down the full length of Harry's erection, harshly rolling and jerking her hips as she held it within her warm coiling folds until his strangled part pained/part pleasured reached her pointed ears, before she slowly dragged herself up and away, her folds unconsciously gripping and grasping at it's fleshy invader before she harshly slammed her hips back down with an audible slap and repeated the process.

Their entire bodies were flushed, pink and red on their faces and chests, as they rolled their hips together. Celestine baring sharp pearls as she increased the pace of her own downward thrusts and the force in which her pelvis collided with her,

"Thrust up. Harder. HARDER I SAID!" She demanded between harsh grunts, distracted by nirvana she was chasing and the spot that her lover was JUST missing within her.

She swooped her breathless lips to his chest, biting sharply into the pale skin of his chest just above his bright nipples, relishing in his quiet squeak of pain and the sharp movement that he made to shrink from her attack. Though he followed instructions, harshly slamming up into her got slippery core to her moaning, satisfaction.

Her tongue danced over the pink, reddening area of flesh lewdly and stared up to his pleasure scrunched face and smirked against his skin as she shook her hips down upon the large, invasive member. Lavishing in the very harsh sound of their hips colliding just as much as the fleshy scraping and pummeling she was receiving from the boy beneath her. The squirms of discomfort combined with the wild pleasure that made his savage her with abandon as

She caught his lips as he tried to quiet his moans, his jade eyes flying open in surprise before rolling back before Celestine's own as she plundered him. Her own tongues invading and mapping out the soft interior assertively. It was hers now, a thought she smirkingly decided, and she was going to make sure to taste its sweetness as much as she could. Crushing Harry's more timid response between her own gouging tongue, coiling about his own drawing it with her before pushing it away.

She wondered how a boy so innately talented, yet clearly inexperienced, was lasting so long. She had divested herself and him of their outfits almost as soon as she had touched down in her home sweet home. The sight of her diamond hard nipples, rosy red points in the chilly air, had caused a very quick stir in his nether regions. A stir she encouraged with a warm dancing tongue and caved cheeks.

"Guh!" It was harsh, his picked-up speed and every forced entry into her tight passageway saw stars exploding behind her eyes,

"W-Wait! T-Too rough!" Pleading for mercy another uncommon thing from the harpy, who despite her mewling moaning pleas for her partner to slow down she picked up the speed in which she met his thrusts. Slamming down to meet his approach as fast as her slippery tightness would allow her. Withdrawing to the tip of his plowing cock and hammering down before she could lament at the lack of it, her own eyes rolling back into her head as she was filled again and again. Alternating between delivering hot wet kisses and breathing heavy sighs and moans in the face of her equally enraptured prey/lover,

"Come little husband." She huskily whispered, her own shadowed eyes finding his with equal measures of desire and lust found between them, "I'm so close, let's do it together."

One sharp thrust too many met her words and the two fell apart.

They clutched onto one another harshly as they climaxed, Harry surrounded in a silky soft embrace of feathers as his member was caught in a coiling vice grip that milked his own ejaculation far beyond what he though should be allowed. Black spots developing on his vision as he gasped heavily, hips hammering forward without rhyme or reason at an irregular speed and force. Heedless to Celestine's teeth sinking into his shoulder as she screamed her release into his skin; gripping the silky soft onyx feathers of her encircling wings in one hand whilst his other found warm purchase in her ass as she continued to assault him with shuddering hips.

The two moaned out in lewd satisfaction as they fell still, Harry surprising Celestine by finding her lips in a tired kiss before the two fell into unconsciousness in one another's sweaty, satiated embrace. The chill of the early winter wind nothing to the heat that still burned through their forms.

.

* * *

.

The seventh-floor classroom had never experienced such a tense, charged atmosphere. A succubus, a demon with a strength rivalling divinity having appeared on grounds where she should never be stood, stood before a redheaded second year who quivered and stared in silent apprehension.

She stood only a few inches taller than the boy who had finally turned to look at her. Her skin was brown and devoid of marks or blemishes, silky smooth to the naked eye. From her back of her hips sprouted a pair of snowy leathery wings and a curling, diamond pointed tail. Wrapped up in a single, tight waist length braid thrown over her shoulder and running down her chest and body, just as pale as her non-human appendages.

"If you had some reason for calling me, I'd love to hear it." She spoke, her voice was sweet and high, filling the room easily without a need for her voice to be raise. A coy smile curled her cherry lips as she stared deviously at the boy before her, "Unless you just called me

"Y-You know why I called you." Ron was able to stutter out, shaking his head to recover some kind of clarity in the buzzing mess of his mind as he shook of the terror and other confusing feelings he felt when beholding the barely clothed… girl before him. The frilly black dress she had worn when she last appeared before her was not what she wore today. Instead she wore a silky strip white of cloth around her chest, her small breasts bound tightly beneath it. With her long legs wrapped around by an identically coloured pareo that her dark legs alluringly peaked out from within, and her feet were captured within snow white sandals with diamonds glittering under the sunset from atop the thin, leather straps that held them on her feet.

"Do I?" She made a display of cupping her hand under her chin and narrowing her brows in thought, though a smirk did quickly come to her face as she held her pose, "The last time I was called to a classroom like this I was bent over a desk very quickly after arriving. He didn't get very far but his efforts were valiant and bold at the very least."

Ron was confused, not really catching her meaning but growling at what he perceived as dismissal and humiliation. His hands dove into the book bag he had left on the teacher's desk and dragged out a familiar folder.

"I've been lied to." Ron harshly gestured with the list of parchment, shaking it through the air to her raised eyebrows of the succubus, "Th-This is rubbish!"

He screamed wordlessly as he hurled the parchment to the ground, the sheets containing his months work on alchemy splattering against the stone as Ron breathed shaking, shuddering breaths as hot tears formed in his hazel eyes.

"You were indeed deceived, yes." The Queen of Hearts decreed flippantly, though her crimson gaze hardened somewhat as she looked down upon the pathetic visage of the sniffling child before her, "Deceived into thinking that you, the irrelevant sixth child of a disgraced pureblood family had any right to the secrets of the world's greatest alchemist."

Ron's flinch and heartbroken gaze moved her not, in fact her glare only deepened as she looked down upon

"You claim to have wanted to improve your families position-"

"I DO!"  
"But not for that sake alone, that is not your objective, just a means to reach it."

"I-"

"I warn you against interrupting me again." Was a snarl that choked the words from Ron Weasley's throat, the boy silently crushed under the vicious pressure of what he knew to be powerful dark magic. Damp, dark, cold and oppressive, inescapable in its all-encompassing coverage of the room. Ron's breathing stopped, and he dragged and clawed at his throat in a vain attempt to force a successful inhale under the weight of the incredible pressure,

"You are the forgotten child, not as funny or as clever as your siblings, and completely overshadowed by the sister, the only daughter of your mother, who was born a year after you." She decreed once more in a tone that dripped viscous loathing, "Your little ploy was to usurp the ones who took the love and admiration you so seek. Both within your family and outside of it."

She sneered down at the choking boy, whose wide tear-filled eyes found hers in both accusation and guilt,

"To openly seek a method to throw your friends and family into the shadows. How loathsome."

She looked down upon him with the disgust one would expect thrown at the worst of criminals, or the foulest of refuse.

"You are neither the first nor the last to be 'duped' by Nicholas Flammel." She spat as the pressure, she had purposefully exuded, retreated and the boy gasped, choked and blinked away the black spots from his vision,

"I-I j-just want a better life. Th-That isn't wrong." Ron's words came out as a snarl through is gritted teeth sometime later as he shook and gasped a little less violently, "Harry and Hermione want the same. Ginny and my brothers do too, it's human nature. People's wants and needs always hurt others, heck, my mum and dad struggle to get by just feeding us."

"Your point, swine?"

"Don't judge me for wanting to feel loved. Mum's never had anything nice to say, and Dad works so hard to support us. Forgive me for wanting recognition." Ron glared, the angry visage slightly curbed by the return of quiet tears.

Far from unmoved, but still finding the child pathetic, she sniffed and allowed the loathing to leave her speech.

"This list is nonsense." She dragged her hand through the air and the appropriate ingredient list fell into her hand from the scattered stack, her tone formal and clearly transactional in nature, "Ingredients with very little to no magical properties, let alone whilst strung together. You cannot make a philosopher's stone with such ingredients."

Ron didn't appreciate the reminder of his foolishness.

"Yet, I will allow you too."

But he froze and regarded with Queen with wide, disbelieving eyes when she spoke again. Her voice and expression held no hits of mirth or malice. The statement made as flippantly as one possibly could.

"You can- wh-why would you?" Ron choked down his hope and instead substituted it for doubt, remembering that although she looked like a pretty little girl with wings, she was a demon. And deals with demons all had something in common…

A catch.

She grinned as soon as the thought formed in his head. She cleared her throat from behind a dainty hand and began to stride as she spoke with a neutral, almost scholarly tone,

"Recently, a sibling of mine has taken a great interest in a young man with whom you have befriended. A very famous young boy, to be specific."

"Harry?" Ron gasped out and shuddered under the image of her sharp fanged grin,

"Indeed." She replied without a hint of her prior sweet airy innocence, "I wish to know what all the fuss is about, thus I entrust you with this."

A crackle of electricity danced in the palm of her dark, outstretched palm and Ron was buffeted by a brief waft of air, musty and warm and definitely more than it seemed (as it forcibly robbed his lungs of air).

Within the extended hand was a vial, tiny and shaped like a small baby blue teardrop stopped by a gold cork. His stare was a silent question of,

'What is that?'

"A single drop on any article of his clothes and I will be able to briefly observe your friend for a single hour each day." The Queen explained with a devious grin, "In return, I will allow you an exemption."

"An… exemption?"  
"From the very laws of magic, yes. An exemption that will allow this list of garbage materials to form into the fabled philosophers stone you so seek when brought together under your hand."

"I'll be able to make a philosopher's stone with those ingredient, even though it's actually not possible? In return, you get to spy on Harry whenever you want?" Ron's eyes narrowed at that fact, his fists even clenching as he knelt upon the ground. The succubus twirling round like a dancer and hopping back onto a desk to take a seat, crossing her legs and looking over at Ron with a more childish smirk on her lips,

"I mean, yeah. Only for an hour at a time, I swear. But yeah, I get to have a little peak at all the naughty little trouble a little boy his age could get himself into." She smirked, and Ron was almost worried at the soft blush that tinted her cheeks as she uncrossed and crossed her legs and licked her soft lips lasciviously, "Though, in return for enabling my harmless little voyeurism fetish, you get unlimited riches, immortality as well as the ability to fulfill your silly little goal in life. A win-win, right?"

' _There's no way. I have to betray Harry to…'_

"Not a chance." Ron snarled, The Queen of Hearts, standing before him with a raised brow and a shaking head, laughed. Shrill and cold and devoid of anything remotely human or pleasant.

"If there wasn't a chance then I wouldn't be here, honey." She spoke at the height of cold cruelty,

"Think about it, think about walking into the Burrow with more gold than your parents will ever make in their lives…"

His mother, wide eyed, one hand over her chest at her hammering heart and the other covering her mouth in disbelief. His father, tired eyes finally lighting up with passion and hope upon realizing he never had to struggle for every knut his family needed.

"How can little Ginny or those silly twins top that, huh?" She trilled teasingly,

He saw the twins, their smile gone. His mother shaking her finger at them as she always did, but instead she was asking them what they were doing with their life and why they couldn't be more like Ron. He smirked as they were embarrassed, he was

"A lot of people have to pay _**far**_ steeper prices for everything they've ever wanted, Ronald." Her voice was airy yet seductive, carrying through the air on the wind that made Ron shudder at both. There was a serious element to her voice that stopped the day dream, reminding him what situation he was in. He was about to enter a deal with a demon that wanted to spy on Harry, there could be nothing good that could come to his friend should he respond.

He was hurting, a philosopher's stone may have been a relatively new dream, but it represented his larger motive. To get himself and his family out of poverty. Did this girl really expect him to throw away his morals and to spit in the face of his best friend just for money and immortality.

"So… what do you say, Ronald Weasley?" She slipped from her seat and grinned down at the wide eyed, heavily gasping boy. Sashaying across the stone floor, the lights flickering as her eyes glowed. The tiny Queen stopping before him and leaning forth with a small, delicate hand outstretched, "Do we have a deal?"

The response was obvious…

.

* * *

.

Goblin children are never named before their birth.

A name to a goblin does not mean the same as it does to an elf or a mortal. A name is a title, a descriptor. Many a goblin are known to be referred to as 'boy' or 'girl' or 'child' for the majority of their formative years for they are yet to make any showings worthy enough of being named after. No act of valour, barbarism, charity, misery. No defining, crowning moment that granted the child worthy of being addressed as anything other than what they were. Some, though rare, unfortunate enough to go from the cradle to the grave with naught, not even a name.

Emperor Stormguard the Unperturbed was one of the few fortunate to have been granted a title before he could walk or speak.

The Emperor earning his name a good year after his birth, left in a field during a glorious downpour. Beams of electricity scorching the trees and wheat as they lanced out of the sky, heavy drums of thunder rolling through the heavens ceaselessly, almost drowning out the vicious scrape and clash of metal and flesh of the battle behind him. The child, the first-born prince at the time, left unsupervised to scream at the sky as the storm turned more violent and the field was further drowned in blood and water. The babe unperturbed by the forks of lightning raining down around him as he cooed and spat malformed words at the furious heavens. Stormguard named as such when his fearful mother was finally able to drag him out of the rain.

He was named the sovereign ruler of his nation in his late teens, a tall goblin at five-foot-five. A monster with sword and spear, a beast wrapped in gold blood caked armour, a demon whose black eyes haunted any of those who survived his wrath.

He sat on one end of the thick mahogany table, his chair hand carved like the table. Patterns of dark beasts, furious battles and great warriors engraved into their surfaces. The arms of his high backed, throne like chair carved in to snarling, furious dragons whose vicious maw were under assault by the sharp black nails of its occupant.

He was impatient, worried, though the only physical quirk that displayed his well-hidden emotions being his dancing fingers. His face schooled into a mask of abject disinterest as he beheld the female across from him, he and her flanked on either side by fully armoured, pike wielding goblins who visibly tremoured in the face of their company. The reputations, power, prestige and temperaments of their seated company far preceding them.

Emperor Stormguard the Unperturbed and the lewdly dressed, smirking daughter of the presiding Demon Lord, Princess Druella. In all her sensual glory.

Stormguard, like many others around the world, had deals to honour. The beginning of his rein coinciding with the beginning of Hers. Her, the Demon Lord whose name could and should never be spoken, not even by those who gave it to her. And thus, he and his species, like all the others who were deemed monsters in the eyes of man, were left helpless as the rule of Luxuria fell across the worlds and its monsters.

At least until Druella of the new Demon Lords brood, had arrived with a proposition. A favour in return for protection from her mothers powerful influence.

"You have avoided true monsterization for yourself and your people whilst others are... more than satisfied with their new positions." Druella's words were teasing as she planted her elbows on the heavy table and rested her chin on her linked hands, staring him down with bright red eyes. "Although you may say that our little deal all those years ago was a benefit for your race, I'd say you're the ones suffering."

Stormguard's scowl was as deep as her grin was broad,

"Forgive me for not wanting the entirety of my proud, warrior race to turn in to slovenly whores." He responded with a gravelly sneer,

"I think that sounds quite delectable to be honest, goblins make very... interesting playmates." She licked her lips and deepened her smirk as the Goblin emperor bristled. A growl rolled through his throat and Druella raised her slender hands in supplication before speaking again with a laugh, "Easy, I'm merely stating that your subjects may be happier if they are brought into the twentieth century with everyone else."

"And _I'm_ merely stating that I'd like you to stop." Stormguard declared gruffly, leaning back in his throne and glaring hatefully at the smirking succubus across from him before straightening his robes and shaking his head, "What is it I can help you with?"

She cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair, tapping manicured fingers on the table between them with a more serious expression on her face,

"I am here to request another favour." She declared in a clear voice,

"We owe you nothing more than what we have given." He felt somewhat smug at his fired off response,  
"Do not think of yourself as incredibly clever, Stormguard." Her lips were slightly pursed at his quick reply before shaking her head, "I would not come to you without anything further to offer. This is a different deal to the one we already have."

Stormguard felt a shred of embarrassment, feeling the scolding, motherly tone of Druella's voice and grinding his teeth silently before flicking his hand out in a gesture for her to proceed. Her expression softened somewhat,

"You see, I have a little one, a pure little thing with the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." She continued as if she had not been interrupted,

"Don't tell me you're here to forge up some sort of marriage contract." Something akin to disgust rocked his form. Thinking that the viciously powerful, princess of darkness had really just appeared in the lobby of his bank, terrified his staff and patrons and going so far as to slice off the hands of one of his guards simply to form a marriage contract.

"If I wanted him as my husband I'd do as all succubi before me have. Slowly seduce him, cutting him away from his friends and family through emotional and sexual manipulation until he found being with me as the only thing he could ever, truly enjoy." Druella declared, back straight and without a shred of humour, "That's how my mother got with my father."

Stormguard had no words to respond in the resulting silence, not letting on that he thought 'her little one' was her child whom she wished to marry off. Thus, he coughed and gave an awkward,  
"I see."

"My little one is weak. He has great power within him, mind you, but no comprehension of it nor how to use it."

"May I have this… 'little ones' name?" Stormguard asked, sitting up a bit straighter as cogs turned in his head and pieces fell together.

"Harry James Potter."

A pin drop could be heard in the silence.

"What?"

"I encountered him through one of my mother's clients, who he now works for." Druella smiled somewhat wistfully as she looked back upon it,

"You have no reason nor right to be playing around with such a child." Stormguard replied with a wide-eyed stare, not wishing to think of the consequences of a dark being being caught around one of the great bastions of the wizard and witches Light side faction,

"You have no reason nor right to be dictating what I should or should not be doing."

Stormguard bristled and recoiled at the reply, her tone was frosty and clipped and cut off a continuation in his throat in its glaring finality.

"Now, I repeat, my little Harry isn't very strong. And, I fear that he is in danger from some pretty dangerous individuals." Druella continued, bringing her hands together to allow her to twiddle her thumbs, "I need him to be a bit more competent and a bit stronger. This is what I require of you."

"You wish for him to be trained?" Stormguard uttered obvious simply to allow his incredulous mind release as he tried to ensure he was clear as to what the succubus was asking of him, "A wizard trained in the warrior ways of the goblins."

"You act as if this is something incredibly uncommon." Druella glared, not impressed at what she saw was the beginning of the emperor's refusal, "This is a practice I am well aware your ancestors practiced from time to time."

"Only upon those WE deemed worthy." Stormguard snarled, not at all caring for the female's tone and flippancy as he snapped, "Not to urchins who you so flippantly hurl our way. I would have you kow that your precious husband to be threatened a teller of this bank and is lucky to have the head his pretty little eyes rest in still sitting on his shoulders."

He choked. He had clearly crossed a line as the invisible musky force of Druella's infuriated magic flooded the room in its rage. He distantly heard, rather than saw, the guards stationed at the halls and doors of the large, underground conference room collapse heavily quickly after her magic was unleashed. Leaving them to choke and gasp whilst Stormguard carefully regained his composure and offered a quick apology and quiet request for her to stop.

The pressure halted as suddenly as it began, leaving his subjects to gratefully gasp in lungsful of air, the succubus playing with a stray strand of her snow-white locks as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Stormguard wondered how carefully he would have to choose his words as they continued.

"He is far from capable of protecting himself and with far too few people to protect him." She spoke with an airy, disappointed tone,

"He is the son of the Potter's, a powerful wizarding family that should surely be the ones protecting him, no?" Stormguard spoke up carefully, Druella scowled for a handful of seconds before schooling her face, unimpressed.

"He was disowned correct? I saw the mark of the severance on his core when I was changing him."  
"Ch-Changing him? You didn't monsterise the boy who lived, did you?" Stormguard's question was incredulous, bordering on outraged. That transforming to irritation as the succubi snorted out a bout of laughter,

"Goodness no! I just made his developing cock a little bigger and gave him some mental and physical protection against the heftier monster girls in the world. His job is to sleep with them after all." She was far too cheerful and self satisfied as she replied, smiling cheerily as she clapped her hand together,

"Ah, so he's Ollivander's new apprentice then." Stormguard settled back into his chair and mused aloud, filing away the information for a later discussion.

"I will buy your kingdom more time and freedom. You all shall be turned, but I will strengthen the magic that protects you people tenfold to make sure that inevitability does not come to pass for another few centuries." The smile gone and the conversation transactional once more,

"What makes you believe I require your aid at this time?" Stormguard fought a derisive sneer at her words,

"Don't play dumb, little Emperor. I know you barely have a few decades left. Do you wish for your precious, proud people to fall into depravity whilst you sit on the throne?"

Stormguard's eyes narrowed, the vicious being hating that his weakness was so easily exploitable, the sovereign having already decided on agreeing,

"I will provide the boy with training in battle, both magical and physical in the quickest time that his teachers can muster." Stormguard let on no sign of his reluctance, and Druella surprised the speaker by allowing the smile to fall from her face and to bow her head in respect,

"And in turn, I shall use my power to ensure that your people and your subjects continue to remain free of the Demon Lord's influence."

They shook hands and a nimbus of white gold magic encircled them briefly, magic enveloping them like a warm blanket that bound their minds, souls and internal magic to their words and agreement.

"If you could have me directed to the ward stones of your city then I will fulfill my end of the bargain immediately." Druella rose to her feet stepped away from the table. Quietly leaving the room with a squad of armoured goblins who appeared at a click of Stormguard's fingers. She was gone with a nod and without a word.

Stormguard sighed as soon as she was gone, quickly straightening in his throne and returning the mask of the unflappable Emperor Stormguard to his face before speaking again, his order firm and without allowing question or denial,

"Get me the royal ghostwriter." The reed thin suited and bespectacled goblin he summoned arrived almost five minutes later when his halberd wielding guard returned with him.

"Your highness, you called?" He swept into a bow so low that his hooked nose brushed againt the polished ground, toting a dark, heavy leather briefcase in one hand and several thick sheets of typing paper in the other.

"Aye, Crushfang. I have need of you." His sovereign declared, drawing up to the fullest height he could reach in his elevated throne, "I am obliged to call in favours my family are owed; thus, you will be writing letters for me."

"May I know whom they are to be addressed to, my liege?" He asked as he drew up to the table, settling his heavy, large briefcase onto the table near his Emperor and carefully drew out a heavy set, black typewriter. Methodically yet quickly setting it up before the eyes of his barely patient sovereign,

"There are three. The first will be to my daughter to ask her to return from the campaign in Egypt and the second and third will be to Professor Filius Flitwick and Lady Mersé Dascaros, to call for them to fulfill their ends of our bargains,"

"And you!" Stormguard called,  
"I am at your service, your majesty." The guard Stormguard turned to address with his sharp words stiffened under his words and gaze.

"Fetch me Battle Master Hardknock and Branch Manager Ragnok, we have work to do."

His heavy foot fall and the scratching of a quill on parchment hit Emperor Stormguard's ears as he began to make moves to fulfill his end of the bargain. Prepared to turn Harry James Potter from a little boy wizard into a vicious warrior worthy of being the husband of the fourth princess of the Demon Lord.

.

* * *

.

A crackling fire warmed the study of the room no longer warmed and lit by the sun. Room contained two heavy desks, one filled with glass vials, conical flasks and other glass containers filled to varying measures of luminescent, different coloured liquids and another buried under books and thick parchment sheets illuminated under white light of his desk mounted lamp (both facing one another on opposite ends of the sizeable room with its polished hardwood floor).

A large red rug sat before the burning logs, the fireplace trapped between two large windows looking out onto the sweeping gardens of the estate with its white rose bushes and maze-like hedges. A pair of dark plushy arm chairs sat on said rug before the fire with a low table separating the two of them stacked high with thick and thin letters. On one of these chairs sat the rooms only occupant, sipping from a miniscule teacup he held daintily in one hand whilst holding its matching saucer in the other, carefully settling the two down with a clink and a satisfied smile when he drained it dry, turning to look out of the window with startling topaz eyes.

In the distance, the black bearded man was able to see the glittering lights of the tiny township of Piana, his home hidden behind magical barriers so thick, powerful and ancient that not even the eldest of their community were even aware that two nearly four-hundred-year-old immortal alchemists lived a handful of miles from them.

That couple being Nicholas and Pernelle Flammel, the most famous couple no one ever spoke of. The wizarding world having the pair as a household name as: famous scholars, innovators and two of the greatest wizards and witches ever born.

Wrinkles of middle age scrunched around his lips and by his eyes as he smiled, looking pleased as he tugged his dark grey speckled beard with a curious hand as he looked out into the night.

"More mail, I see." Her voice was like a sirens, turning Nicholas's head to his smiling wife with a smile of his own. Her own topaz glittering with love and life and happiness as she smiled with soft lips. Standing in a soft red night dress and an identically coloured dressing gown as she slithered into the room and settled into the chair opposite her husband, brushing fingers through her dark brown hair as she smiled under her husbands lovestruck gaze.

"Indeed my love, though one in particular I believe you'd be amused to read." He chuckled as he spoke, surreptitiously pulling at the sleeve of his white and blue pinstriped night shirt as he reached to the letter pile and pulled out one of the few opened letters on the stack and gestured it towards his curious wife,

"Who is this from?"  
"One young Ronald Bilius Weasley."

Her expression became pinched in thought before a light of recognition bloomed behind her eyes,

"The little Hogwarts student?" Pernelle smirked as she carefully took it from her husbands hand and he returned her smile, "The little arrogant one that demanded the secret to alchemy just because he and his little friends defended the fake we left for Dumbledore."  
"Indeed. It seems the fool decoded the manuscripts and THIS." He jabbed good naturedly at the folded parchment between his beloved's olive fingers, "Is his reply."

She looked down a little warily, prepared for a grammatically incorrect rant at how he had been duped (that made her smile) and hurled abuse in the direction of her and/or her husband. She read with trepidation.

 _ **Dear, Nicholas Flammel**_

 _ **I thank you for your faith and aid. With your support and direction I was able to easily dissect the contents of your manuscripts and have already begun the formation of my philosophers stone.**_

 _ **I am sure you will be pleased to hear that I am seeing some remarkable successes with the combination of the ingredients and the stone looks to be forming as expected. I will be sure to inform you upon its completion. I hope this letter finds you well.**_

 _ **Yours sincerely,**_

 _ **Ronald Weasley**_

Pernelle smirked in confusion as she read the written words and raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her softly snickering husband,

"What is this fool talking about?" she eventually asked with a snort,  
"I am not sure my sweet, I like to think he is trying to make me feel guilty for having him tricked." He laughed as she did too, "Because if he ACTUALLY decoded the manuscripts then I refuse to believe he is not intelligent enough to realise he has been tricked."

The two continued to laugh as the moon rose into the air, derisive and rude comments thrown in the metaphorical direction of the child who had written to them without the slightest measure of shame or remorse. Unaware of what the boy had done but more than willing to calmly await his next letter detailing his 'progress.'

.

* * *

.

 **Not quite sure how many of you read the bottom Author's Notes but I don't like cluttering the top one with announcements of this kind.**

 **So, as I was writing the lemon between Harry and Celestine I had a funny little thought of Papi and Celestine fighting over their 'husband'. Which actually gave me an entirely unrelated idea I wanted to pose to you.**

 **A Wizards Life With Monster Girls is fairly heavily planned out, the harem is filled up and the skeleton of the plot is actually typed out onto a Word document ready for me to flesh out and follow along like a bread crumb trail. But I was reminded of a Review on the previous story complaining about the use of the Monster Musume main cast members as parts of Harry's harem instead of other monster girls and/or OC's and I vaguely remember responding that I was open to the idea of writing a story with other monsters and original characters once I'd completed this project.**

 **So, with context out of the way, how open are you to that idea as a separate fic (after this one and the already planned out next one) where Harry has to 'deal with the consequences' of his little romps with the characters in this story. Girls would include Lumaria, Celestine, the girls I am yet to introduce, maybe Druella etc. It'd basically be another Harry Monster Harem fic with the original characters I've already created.**

 **As a concept, would it be something you'd be interested in reading? I will reiterate, A Wizards Life in Magical Academia and a Wizards Life With Monster Girls WILL be written out before and regardless of the vote, but I was just curious as to what you guys thought about it?**

 **Have a good day/night and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Peace out x**


	14. Chapter 14

**BBWulf, vashthesnake, Blazingkill, Razgriz0x and commandosquirrel: Thanks you five, I'm glad you are liking it and it was lovely to hear from you x**

 **VentXekart: I thank you sincerely, I'm glad you like it. As to your questions I can't really answer them (Spoilers and all) but I am incredibly grateful that you've both been reading along and ejoying. Thank you very much x**

 **DRAGONDAVE45: I'm going to be blunt and say the only Lamia that Harry will be with will be our sweet little Miia later on (sorry) but Harry's next encounter will be a little… wetter than usual. At least the next one for Ollivander…**

 **Thank you again Spartan3909 and everyone else who is reading. I appreciate all of your support and readership.**

 **On with the show! xxx**

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* * *

A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:

Chapter 14

The canine lunged from the shadows at the black robed Auror, fully trained and on high alert yet still caught off guard. A blur of grey fur that sunk razor sharp, pearly white fangs into a tender, unprotected throat, another corpse on the floor of Nuremgard castle.

Yet another victim to fall at the hands of the Dark Lord Gellert Grindlewald.

He twirled the wand he had acquired in his hands, he was well into his triple digits AND one room away from the exit to his many decade prison. Ignoring the slovenly gasps and salivation of the still feasting wolf as he lazily surveyed the deep brown ivy wood in his grasp.

'Hmm… Ivy, ten inches and dragon heartstring.' He registered as his wand sweeped forward slowly, the wolf he had transfigured quickly giving up its meal in favour of the fresh meat he was being directed towards. The mousy brown haired young man barely able to shout a warning as the furry blur bore into their darker haired companion, Grindlewald's hand snapping forth in a more compact and precise gesture that illuminated the aforementioned in a familiarly malevolent green light. The prior dead before he hit the ground whilst his companion screamed and thrashed beside him in a puddle of blood and gore. Grindlewald walking past without a glance or gesture, 'This wand is serving me well enough, it is similar enough to my previous one afterall.'

The evening had been planned for months in advance, his choice of captor to slaughter had been made long ago simply due to their specific wand. Her name Melodia Ainsworth, a Hit Wizard trained and belonging to MACUSA across the pond. A woman a half-decade out of her training days and a full 24 months exactly into her part as one of his guards, having (likely unintentionally) taken the spot left available after her father Noah Ainsworth (a Hit Wizard he was rather… intimately familiar with) reluctantly retired. Personally, leading his daughter up to his cell (alongside his Head Jailor) on the day he was to leave and introducing the elderly wizard to the first true hope of escae he had received in his entire imprisonment.

'Ivy wood with dragon heartstring.' Grindlewald allowed him to wonder once more, 'The same wood and core as mine...'

The wand he had received from Gregorovitch the first time he had entered the mans shop, a wide eyed eleven-year-old oh so ready to enter Dumstrang and finally submit himself to the power and pursuit of academia and study. The wand he had abandoned for the most powerful wand on this earth all those years ago on his second visit to the mans workshop. A simple shock for the surprisingly easily startled young witch had her fumbling hands drop her wand to the ground after he had lured her close.

Her body was likely still cooling, undiscovered, outside of the door to his cell…

His steps were light and made with a stumbling grace, his black and white jump suit hanging limply from his nigh-skeletal form, giving the violent criminal a look akin to a scarecrow. Matted white hair sticking to pale cheeks as it fell to his shoulders, pale skin (almost grey from the lack of light) thin against his bones but warming as the wizard finally felt the sweet, intoxicating power he had coveted and groomed his whole life thrummed beneath the surface. A madman's grin splitting his face as he finished his stride over the distance of the castle's entrance hall and he slammed open the thick black doors that marked Nuremgard's main entrance and exit. Beyond it being the grey stone courtyard, tall spear topped walls and heavy semi-circle of black robed and hooded Aurors who stared down their escaping prisoner without pause or much trepidation.

 _ **HE**_ stood at the gate, the final bastion of hope for Nuremgard castle. The purple and white starred robed figure flanked on either side by dozens upon dozens of black robed wizards and witches who. Whilst their expressions ranged from hatred to fear to steely determination, his face was calm and collected. He observed him without a hint of wariness, caution or anything that would suggest even the slightest pause.

Albus Dumbledore strode forward without a word, a flick of his wrist sent Grindlewald's blood ablaze at the sight of a very familiar wand. Sharp blue gaze meeting a matching, equally furious blue gaze,

"You have something of mine, Albus..."

Cerulean eyes blazed like fire, the headmasters grip tightening on the object in question. Dumbledore did not offer words as a response, the air heavy as steel with the invisible magical pressure of the two goliaths of magic facing off against one another.

A testing whistle, sharp and loud, had the wolf tear through the heavy, dark front doors of his castle. Lunging towards the throat hidden behind Dumbledore's long white beard, though it vanished without a trace without so much of a movement from the purple robed man. Though Grindlewald continued onwards despite the initial failure.

A harsh, upward arch of his wand arm saw an invisible force slicing through air and stone (carving a path through the courtyard like a ravenous snake) soaring towards Dumbledore and the Auror's from a snarling Grindlewald. In equal silence, Dumbledore replied with a vicious, backhanded swat that cleaved the invisible spell from the air. Both of them in motion after their initial exchange.

Grindlewald's wand danced through the air in intricate, unknown symbols that raised the debris and tore up more bricks and stone from the desecrated ground that quickly formed together with a whistle and whine of dust and wind.

Dumbledore's wand created quick circles and swirls by his waist that showed no clear effect to those viewing him. Though a steadily rumbling of approaching thunder and the disappearance of the white disk in the sky gave the awestruck Auror's some indication of

"Lapis Exercitus." Grindlewald almost laughed out in breathless excitement as his spell successfully formed,

Various shades of grey and brown formed the trio of six feet, lumpy beings that now looked upon Dumbledore with vicious red ruby eyes. Vaguely humanoid and shambling towards their creators adversary with surprising speed and silent yet clear bloodlust.

A yellow spell fizzed through the air from over Dumbledore's shoulder, slamming into the left most golem with a loud crunch that spat stone and dirt to the floor in a dusty, explosive impact. The caster allowed herself a soft, satisfied smile with a heavy relieved gasp as its advance was given pause.

A roar. Eldritch horror vocalized as the struck golem that Grindlewald had created screeched and screamed in a vicious baritone that echoed through the air and off of the walls. It thrust its malformed hands into the ground by its feet, the trio of fingers on each mitt pulling up further stone and dust with a satisfied, wordless cry from the mouthless fiend. Red gem like gaze centering on the dark-haired female that had assaulted it before it moved, hand rearing back and hurling forward its catch faster than the naked eye could follow. Horrified screams found the area eventually when the other dark-robed Auror's registered the strike against one of their own, the projectiles (in the majority) slamming into her unprotected, unprepared face with a speed and force that rivalled bullets. She flew from her feet and into the group behind her as her face caved in in a spray of crimson, several smaller projectiles of the spray slicing through the skin of her fellow coworkers who had stood just a bit too close toher in that moment.

The display was met with snide, malevolent laughter. Grindlewald side stepping returning spells (a stray Killing curse intermingled with the reds of Disarming charms and Stunning spells) and firing off a familiar green again and again to his attackers. His laughter growing wilder and wilder with very body that hit the floor beneath either his onslaught or the attacks of his three projectile hurling golems, who Dumbledore lazily dodged as his aggressive wand movement picked up in speed and the thunder that followed them increased in volume.

"Bah! Look at all of those lives you continue to fail, Albus!" Grindlewald roared out in glee as a pair of hazel eyes lost the light of life under the force of his spell, "Come now, old man. It is high time you make your move!"

Dumbledore's movements abruptly halted, thunder reverberated through their skulls from the roiling black clouds above their heads.

"Sonantis Tonitrui." Dumbledore spat, cold and without feeling when his wand ceased to move. The heavens opening at his command and raining down streams of lightning onto the assailants without mercy or restraint. The trio lasted seconds under the onslaught of electricity and water.

The storm dispersed far faster than it had formed, too early for puddles to form but two late to not drench the desecrated area in water. Steam and smoke rising from the blackened stone in thin, reaching tendrils as they rose into the air. Dumbeldore and Grindlewald the only ones still standing, the Auror's groaning, sighing and gasping in pain, anguish and for other reasons as the two adversaries regarded one another in cold animosity.

A BANG issued forth from the collision of two streams of magic, green and crimson that sent the onlookers hurling to the floor. White light and flickers of electric power that sliced vicious paths into the cold stone of the courtyard as they strained against one another. A nasty back and forth between the two colours as they smacked against one another with vicious bangs, zaps and snaps that sliced through the ears of all who heard.

"You know the truth of magic, do you not, Albus?" Grindlewald's sneer morphed too and from a pained, determined grimace as he desperately pushed against the force of his adversary with force of will and the power that burned in his core, "My desire to be free surely trumps your desire to stop me. And we both know the power of emotions over magic."

Only then, with a glare that could have frozen God, did Dumbledore speak,

"I don't want to stop you, Gellert. I want you dead."

A vicious, heavy SNAP echoed in the air as sickly green bolt of power visible buckled under the force of the violent red lightning issuing from the tip of Dumbledore's wand. Grindlewald was not even allowed a moment to feel shocked for the spell bore down upon him at such a mind-numbing speed, all but snapping his wrist as it wrenched his wand from his unwilling fingers and cleaved him from his feet and sent him flying back onto the ground. The man left to lie without a sound or movement as Dumbledore snatched it from the air without taking his eyes off of his downed foe. Silence reigning supreme before the circle of law enforcement warily began to close.

"Get him back in his cell." Dumbledore ordered the nearest Auror Captain, distinguished by the golden trim on his pitch-black robes, as he pressed the wand into his calloused hands. Grizzly and stubbly faced, with dark, pained, fearful eyes as he did as he was told. He and his squad moving to apprehend their prisoner as Dumbeldore turned on his heels and striding away.

And Grindlewald laughed, heavy and violent from his prone position sprawled on his back. Blood, phlegm and spittle oozing and spraying past dry, cracked lips as he guffawed from the very core of his shuddering, shaking chest. His hysteria echoing off of the walls as he was forcibly dragged back to his cell…

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* * *

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"You have quite pretty eyes, Hermione Granger." Was the response Hermione received in the third-floor corridor, delivered with a serene smile from one Luna Lovegood from the year below (who had been trekking along behind her for a full ten minutes after Hermione slipped out of

She had swept around to ask the Ravenclaw why she had spent the past few minutes padding along behind her, humming nursery rhymes with a jovial, cheery demeanor that somehow simultaneously pushed each and every one of Hermione's buttons and got on the last of her frayed nerves.

"Wh-What?" She spat out in reply, the flippancy of the girl she recognized as Ron's little sisters friend,

"Your eyes are a glorious blue, Hermione Granger. I find them gorgeous and wished to inform you, yet I couldn't find the words." She smiled brightly and innocently, hands folded behind her back as she beamed, whilst Hermione wondered about the state of the girl's vision.

"M-my eyes are brown, Luna."

"I've seen them as blue. Though, now on closer inspection, your eyes are a pretty chocolate brown. Nice but not as beautiful." Luna rambled with a cheery disposition, the foggy expression having returned as she spoke but a frown turned down her lips, "How disappointing. I must look like a quite the fool now."

"Erm… everyone makes mistakes, Luna. You don't look like a fool." Hermione offered an awkward feeling reply as some kind of kindness at the clearly upset looking blonde.

Upset vanished at Hermione's words, but happiness was not what took its place, like Hermione had hoped for.

A pressure, cold and forceful, filled the corridor that they both inhabited alone. The darkening of the sky from the late afternoon did not explain to Hermione as to why the shadows suddenly grew to be unnaturally long. She found her breath coming short under the invisible weight, a weight she subconsciously recognized as emanating from the now furious Ravenclaw before her. The girl's eyes, previously looking through Hermione with a foggy disposition, now pierced her with glowing unnatural clarity, fists clenched at her side with a form that reeked power and rage,

"I have made no mistake, Hermione Granger. You may think I am wrong, but I am not." She spoke in a tone that offered no room for resistance nor counter, yet,

"I-"

"No need. Just stop talking." Luna interrupted, though her tone was considerably calmer the pressure and the gentle glow from her deeper blue eyes remained, "Though I have some questions about your eyes."

It vanished in an instant, Luna quietly clearing her throat as the sun set off to the side.

"Tell me. What do you see when you look at Harry Potter or Delphini Rowle?" Her normally dreamy and distant eyes transitioned to incredibly focused, not lowering from Hermione's own, was stunningly intimidating from the shorter blonde, "Though, I suppose, the real question is… Do you always see the same thing when you see them, or do you see something else?"

"Do I… what do you even mean?"

Luna did not answer at first, her eyes were harshly searching before she leaned back on to her heels with a sweet innocent smile. The immediate juxtaposition hitting Hermione with a sharp feeling akin to whiplash,

"Come, Hermione Granger. I think our beloved headmaster would do this explanation a bit better than me."

Luna gave a sharp, affirmative nod, seeming to be more for herself rather than for Hermione. She then abruptly snapped around and jogged along the way the two of them had come, Hermione stood still though.

"If you think I'm joking, I'm not." She called over her shoulder, the serene smile that lit her face up like a star returned, "Come. We're going to see Professor Dumbledore."

Hermione acquiesced without a word after that.

Her humming would probably have been irritating in its incessance had Hermione not been struck dumb by a mixture of fear, wonder and curiosity.

'What is this girl?' Hermione caught herself thinking as the blonde skipped and whistled a cheery melody through the darkening corridors of their school. The pairs march surveyed by curious portraits and a single suit of armour that clinked along behind them for a little while before twirling off towards the Great Hall and the girls continued on towards the private office and quarters of the Hogwarts headmaster.

The phoenix shaped gargoyle stepped aside at Luna's happy trill of,

"Candy wands." And Hermione was pulled along up a spiral staircase that the statue had been hiding behind its glorious stone wings. Luna rapping a quick tune against the door with a dainty fist and grinning as the headmaster's voice beckoned them inside.

"Ah! Miss Lovegood, Miss Granger, good evening." The man greeted cheerfully, looking up from a long scroll of parchment with a quick, warm and easy smile.

"Good day!" Luna curtseyed as she stepped over threshold of the Headmaster's office with a warm smile, Hermione awkwardly following behind with a meeker,

"Good afternoon, sir."

Dumbledore's smile and half-moon bespectacled gaze welcomed the two into his office and Luna's gestures and pulls brought the confused and worried Hermione into the office.

"Not to rush you along ladies, but I took a short holiday this weekend to Germany and unfortunately am left with a mountain of parchment of which my attention needs quite urgently." His smile was ruffled with amusement as he loosely gestured to the swollen pile of parchment on the left side of his desk, "Is there something

"I just wanted to make you aware that my… acquaintance..." Luna looked to Hermione in questioning, looking for a form of clarification before resoloutely nodding to herself and turning back to her headmaster with a bright grin, "Yeah, acquaintance. We're not really friends I don't think. Not that I wouldn't want to be, but rather because I feel my eccentricities and activities may intimidate my slightly closed-minded companion."

"Miss Lovegood, with respect. Could you get to the point?" The professor cheerily (but respectfully) cut off the blonde girls joyous rambling, Luna stopping with a curious pout before shrugging,

"All I wished to point out is that Hermione Granger has the same lovely blue eyes that you and I do."

Hermione still didn't know what on earth Luna Lovegood was talking about, but judging from the stunned (and almost horrified) expression that flowed onto Professor Dumbledore's face, he did.

"How about you take a seat, Miss Granger?" He gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk, and she quietly shuffled over to it and Luna skipped along beside her.

.

* * *

 _ **.**_

 _ **Little Whinging was very much the definition of suburbia. No buildings rose large enough to be considered too big, no establishment considered too major or large. Many would be on the commute back from Surrey or London from work at this time of day, if they hadn't already slipped back into town after the closing bell of the school day has rung after an hour had passed.**_

 _ **Harry wondered little about his home town as he ran, barely noting the increased traffic on the road or by footfall as he continued to sprint. His grazed, scabby knees sliced up further every time he stumbled and tripped, shredded by unyielding concrete and stones.**_

 _ **It was spring, the ice and rain of the winter had finally subsided enough to allow for warmth and sunlight. Perfect 'Harry Hunting' Season,**_

" _ **GET HIM!" Dudley Dursley screamed to the laughing jeering posse he lead along. Piers, Dennis, Gordon and Malcolm sneering and cheering in support of their big dumb leaders scream, Harry picking up speed on burning, aching legs.**_

" _ **Move."**_

" _ **Watch it"**_

" _ **Get out of the way!"**_

 _ **Voices of faceless, unknown men and women who Harry slipped past, slammed into and danced by. Never stopping for a moment as his pursuers soldiered on.**_

 _ **He ran until he no longer felt their breaths on his neck or the grasping of their fingers. Ran until he could no longer determine what words or threats were being thrown his way. Only stopping sprinting for his life when the gang following him were nowhere in sight and the cool summer night was young.**_

 _ **He had circled back to Privet Drive, the identical little houses and plots of land flowing into nothingness as Harry shuffled by them. Number Four growing ever closer with each uncomfortable, reluctant step.**_

 _ **The first strike split his lips, a backhand slicing across Harry's young face that threw him onto the ground after he quietly entered the house under his Uncle Vernon's furious and cold gaze. A growl, animalistic and hateful rolled out from above him, Harry's blood running cold as his body shook, wide green eyes barely able to look up at the man as he flinched and shook in terror.**_

" _ **You think you can just rock up whenever you want? Do you pay bills boy? Do you provide for yourself? DO YOU?!"**_

 _ **Harry squeaked out a,**_

" _ **No." As he beheld his uncle, red faced in rage with a quivering mustache and clenched, tremouring fists.**_

" _ **Then you don't get to just come and go when you please, boy!"**_

 _ **The second blow was a vicious kick,**_

 _ **Harry couldn't exhale, he breathed in sharp, short, desperate breaths as his stomach and chest were scorched in agony. Eventually able to cough out desperate breaths as he curled up and writhed in the entryway of the home with strangled groans and gasps of pain.**_

 _ **He vomited, spewing what little he had eaten that day onto the floor before the staircase pressed against the right wall, heedless to his uncle's disgust and rage as he shook before him,**_

" _ **Clean up that mess you freak and get out of my sight." He spat, spittle hitting the shaking child who could barely see the man through the hot tears as he strode away (or the sneering, scornful expression of the thin necked woman or the smug faced child). Leaving Harry Potter to choke, sob and spew onto the blue carpet and the rough welcome mat.**_

 _ **.**_

Harry awoke with tired eyes. Burning with the desire to sleep as he stared, blindly, to his side; paralysed by his receding slumber. He was far beyond the violent lurches to reality that his nightmares had once given him...

[FLASH]

 _His scream was hoarse and sharp. His hands clamping over his mouth viciously as he rocked awake. Eyes prickling with tears as he returned to the waking world._

 _"Oi Harry!" Ron. His voice anxious and horrified, Harry turned to him quickly in a state mirroring his. Hazel eyes furiously looked him over as the red head seemed to light up in some small relief at having caught his attention,_

 _"Mate, a-are you alright?" That stuttering, equally worried inquiry coming from Neville on his other side. Harry's hands fell from his mouth as his eyes found the round-faced boy on the other side of his bed,_

 _"You were really pale and shaking Harry, we thought you were having a fit."_

 _"Dean and Seamus have gone to get Professor McGonagal." Neville spoke after Ron's shaky voiced declaration, both boys clearly worried and relieved in identical measures as they flanked the boy._

 _"I... I d-didn't wake you, did I?" Harry choked out his question, his body shivering under a sheen of cold sweat,_

 _"N-No, y-you didn't." Neville was quick to assure him, worrying Harry in his haste._

 _"I was up getting water when I saw you, mate." Ron admitted, turning Harry's attention to him as he spoke placatingly, "Woke up the others to help when I couldn't wake you."_

 _Harry winced and almost missed the quietly apologetic stance Ron then took._

 _"Are you ok now then?" Ron continued, nigh-carelessly,_

 _"Yeah." Harry quietly replied, believed not by the boy on his left_

" _Are you sure. Maybe you should go and see the Nurse or…" Neville tried,_

 _"I said I'm fine!" He immediately regretted raising his voice, Neville's fearful flinch met immediately with a guilty apology. His body shook in cold and lingering emotion, pale sheets scrunched up in balled fists as his breathing came short._

 _"It's just..." he halted, his deeper breathes helping him steady himself as his nerves settled. He dared not look at Neville or Ron, a slimy knawing feeling clawing away nostalgically in the pit of his stomach, "It was just a bad dream."_

 _The night continued on quietly._

[FLASH]

Sitting up wasn't difficult, his hand resting on the formerly savaged stomach from all that time ago. Not feeling even an echo or memory of the pain or discomfort but carefully caressing and probing it

"My, that was unpleasant." A honey sweet voice croon cut through the air, starting Harry from his self-reflection and reminiscence. Harry saw a familiar head of white hair out of the corner of his eye that froze him solid in momentary terror, "Remember it was only a dream, sweetheart. You have nothing to fear."

Turning and staring warily over at Druella, the Lilim princess threading her long-nailed fingers through her long white hair, Harry gulped quietly before his eyes narrowed (Harry desperate to mask the cold, clawing feeling of terror with aggression and rage). Her pale glory shining with an almost ethereal glow under the light of the moon.

"You're not particularly polite, are you?" She pursed her lips at his expression and silence, smirking as he scowled,

"Forgive me for not rolling out the red carpet, your majesty." Her eyebrow raised and her scarlet eyes became searching. The sneer that had risen to his face wilted somewhat under her curious gaze,

"Oh! So you know of me now, do you?" She cheerily trilled, folding her hands into her lap and eagerly leaning forward, "You know that I am royalty yet you still speak to me as such, how so?"  
Excitement and enthusiasm vibrated through her voice and posture.

"A friend of mine explained it to me." Harry numbly replied,

"Explained what exactly?"

"The rule of Luxuria..."

[FLASH]

 _Rubeus Hagrid could not cook for humans. Harry felt better at that thought, correcting his own initial thought that declared that the jovial half giant could not cook, period. He nibbled around the large stony aptly named rock cake, feeling heavy in his hands as he revelled in the sweet crumbs and trying not to wrinkle his nose at the occasional raisin,_

" _You really don't eat much, do you?" Hagrid chuckled at the display of Harry's tiny bites, the boy blushing as the man's laugh became booming, slapping his hand loudly on his knee before he nudged a log with a quiet jab of the thick poker into the single roomed huts humming fireplace._

" _Small stomach." He replied, weakly smiling at his practiced reply to that enquiry. Having a small laugh along with Hagrid as the older man shook his head,_

" _Yer a growin lad 'Arry. Need to get more meat on yer bones." He guffawed, slapping a giant hand onto his knee whilst Harry softly chuckled along at the man's enthusiasm._

 _A few quiet moments passed them by, small talk about the Quidditch team and inquiries about Harry's classes and Hagrid's activities in the forest. Until, with a swig out of the heavy tankard of tea, Hargid brought down the mood down to a more sombre one when Hagrid broached a different subject as Harry added sugar to his,_

" _Can I ask what yer doin with Ollivander?"_

 _His stirring spoon paused, Harry's expression emptied (rather than how it used to scrunch up and flinch at the mention of Ollivander) though he let out a slight wince that was too soft for the gentle man to catch._

" _I… mostly I'm cleaning his shop. Sometimes I help with getting ingredients for him."_

" _Ingredients, huh?" There was a sort of edge to his voice that was almost foreign in Hagrid's voice, "What is that like?"_

 _Harry's eyebrows furrowed, and he looked up into Hagrid's dark gaze, the serious interrogative tone and expression causing a cold worry to clutch at his heart. The boy being left to wonder both why he was pursuing such a line of questioning, and who he was really asking for,_

" _Why are you asking?" Harry asked softly, a calmness falling over him as he lifted the mug to his lips and took a slow sip. A cool mask falling across his face as he held his gaze, feeling somewhat unpleasant when Hagrid's face seemed to scrunch with something like guilt or apprehension. His eyes narrowed somewhat, "Who are you asking for?"_

 _Hagrid visibly stiffened and Harry felt no satisfaction at being right on the money, instead he followed it up,_

" _It's Professor Dumbledore, isn't it?"_

 _A stab in the dark, the only one Harry could think of who Hagrid would possibly take instruction from in regard to him in Harry's eyes. He felt rather irritated in this round about way of his headmaster trying to get information, but he decided to bear it for now._

 _Hagrid's head drop was all the confirmation he needed, leaving Harry unable to contain the sigh that escaped his lips over the lip of his cup, taking a sip and flinching when Hagrid's demeanour became even more guilty,_

" _Hey, Hagrid, don't feel too bad. I was just guessing."  
"It ain't really tha, more that yeh think I'm goin behind yer back." Harry had no response but he did watch with quiet anticipation, "I was just worried about yeh, Harry. Dumbledore told me bout you workin' for Ollivander and I've heard a few… rumours."_

" _Rumours?" Harry asked carefully, physically perking up in curiousity at the giant man's choice of words, "What kind of rumours?"_

 _A flush, reddening the mans cheeks visibly through his thick, bristly black beard, Harry got a bit of an indication of the nature of the rumours,_

" _Ah, I see."_

" _Yeh do?" Hagrid's tone was more serious than Harry had ever heard it. His voice low, questioning and, in a way, somewhat urgent. Harry held his gaze for as long as he could before he answered with a shaky affirmative,_

" _Yeah."_

 _A sharp inhale whistled past Hagrid's lips, succeeded by a shuddering sigh. A clunk hitting Harry's ears as Hagrid's tankard hitting the table as the giant furiously shook his head and ground his teeth together, silently seething in his seat._

 _Harry left the man to his silence, his own mind shifted back to his last trip, remembering how he had quietly dropped the two handfuls of Celestine's feathers on Ollivander's desk (plucked as she continued to sleep with a sugar sweet smile, in her nest) before he scurried off. He hadn't really spoken to the wandmaker then or since and his boss hadn't saw fit to speak to him either._

" _D-Do you understand what happens to humans when they're… when they…" Hagrid was trying to speak, the fury that had crippled his ability to speak was gone but Harry noticed that the man seemed visibly flushed once again by his words. Harry didn't have a clue why this time and thus sat in silence waiting for the man to speak, waiting longer and longer as he kept clearing his throat and attempting again and again._

 _He cleared his throat with a soft headshake and locked eyes with Harry once again, curious, apprehensive and his hands (now on the table) fidgeted and wound around one another as and before he spoke again,_

" _You've been… with. Ahem!" He coughed and continued, "You've BEEN with a few… monsters, right?"_

 _Harry stayed silent, but Hagrid decided not to,_

" _I don know how much yeh know about monsters 'Arry, but I'm gunna make sure yeh know EXACTLY what yer involved in."_

 _Harry quickly noticed that he was leaning forward in his chair, he immediately rested his back back onto the back of his chair. Quietly and patiently waiting for the man to find his words._

" _Bout the start of the century, a succubus became the Demon Lord."  
"The Demon Lord?"  
"The Overlord, the Queen of the Monsters." Hagrid gruffly answered before continuing, "Yeah, a succubus took over, and she changed everything. All the monsters to be specific."_

" _What do you mean by 'changed everything'?" Harry asked quietly_

 _"Apparanly it was somethin Professor Dumbledore learned when he was fightin Grindlewald. That monsters weren't actin the same as they should."_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"They'd changed, 'Arry."_

 _"But how? How had they changed?" Harry asked. Though his past… encounters, had given him some idea as to what had become of the violent, bloodthirsty nature that even the Muggles knew monsters for. Hagrid's fingers clasped together as his elbows planted onto the table and a soft, thoughtful groan hummed in the back of his throat before he spoke again, his tone even more solemn than before,_

" _People call it, the rule of Luxuria. Usually, the Gods used to decide how monsters acted. Gave em the reputation o being nasty, bloodthirsty savages. But they weren't all then and they sure ain't now." Hagrid scratched the back of his head after his words were inflamed with internal passion, seeming more embarrassed the longer he stayed quiet,_

" _Luxuria, huh. It's… it's Latin isn't it. Like our spells?"_

" _Y-yeah, it… erm. It means Lust." Hagrid flushed once again but viciously shook his head and continued with a more serious tone, "Cause a succubus is in charge of all the monsters, she decides how all of em act. And cause succubi are all about, well…"_

" _Because succubi are monsters that focus on sex then all the monsters now are too?" Harry murmured his question and received a firm nod from Hagrid, Fang brushing up on Harry as words came softly and further explanations were given._

[FLASH]

"My, I didn't think that half giants were still being born." Druella mused in response, leaning back gracefully onto the cool glass of the window between his bed and Ron's, the redhead seemingly fast asleep on the other side of the thick curtains surrounding his bed, "I should go and take a peek."

"Please leave him alone." Harry asked tiredly, forgetting his scowling animosity in his lethargy.

"Awww, sweetheart. Are you jealous?" Druella laughed in condescension and whilst Harry's back went ramrod straight at the implication but glowered,

"Don't get your hopes up." He replied, stunned at the high, mirth filled laugh that filled the rom with more than pleasant sound. His soft mattress sunk and a warm weight settled against the side of his leg as Druella sat on his bed. The distant enjoyment of her warmth with his quiet appreciation of her laughter did funny things to his stomach that scorched his face red,

"Oh sweetheart, you may not believe this or understand it. But you're the only person in this castle I care about, not you're not so little friend Hagrid." She reached out and ruffled his hair before softly tracing her hand down to his warm cheek and caressing her thumb across his crimson tainted skin with a lecherous smile briefly turned gentle.

"Anyway… When you wake up, have a good day. And know one thing." Harry was prepared for more incessant flirtation, veiled threats or cryptic comments Harry didn't understand…

Not the soft kiss that burned his lips at the soft, brief contact.

"Very few people on this earth truly love you, but I am most certainly one of them." She whispered against him, her face lighting up in bright, smug feeling.

.

Harry's eyes blinked open, lying on his back with the beginnings of sunlight brightening the black sky to a slightly lighter, dark blue. Brushing away the fog and pseudo-paralysis of slumber occupied many minutes of his wakefulness as Harry's mind settled after it ran. Harry's racing mind settling slowly as his hand settled on his still tingling lips, wondering what on earth had just occurred.

Grasping hands braved the icy cold air beyond his thick quilt to find his wand and glasses on his bedside cabinet. A wave of the wand revealed the time was 4:15am. Classes were five hours away and sleep, far further. He was wide awake now.

So, Harry rolled out of bed to get to ready for the day.

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* * *

.

"Today we will be focusing on a basic Calmness Draught, just to see if you dunderheads are physically capable of getting something right whilst in this classroom." Severus Snape addressed the class at volume in his distinctive, disinterested drawl. Not missing the bristle of the Gryffindor's and Slytherin's the backhanded insult was swatted towards,

"And Mr Finnegan, if you DARE to blow up another cauldron in my classroom and endanger the lives of my students, I suggest that you screw up your potion enough to take you with it and avoid the punishment I WILL levy against you."

With that the classroom reluctantly flowed into action.

"Hmm, Malfoy's not in today." Ron whispered a questioning statement as he settled his utensils between his and Hermione's cauldrons as she and Harry scurried off for ingredients, missing the roll of Delphi's eyes,

"Forgive me for my lack of concern." She sighed in response. Smirks and snickers met her words (which earned them the ire filled glare of Severus Snape), Harry and Hermione quietly sliding up to ask what was so funny. The four working in quiet conversation on two separate tables, slaving over their bubbling smoking cauldrons, only looking away to address one another or take careful peeks at the instructions written in white chalk behind the viciously glaring Potions Master. Their somewhat comfortable lesson remaining so for a good forty five minutes before the atmosphere was explosively shattered.

 _ **BANG!**_ A vicious thunderclap of an explosion smacking into their eardrums from the back corner of the classroom,

"Goddamnit Seamus." Harry sighed under his breath, without looking up from his carefully counted out stirring of his cauldron,

"FINNEGAN!"

"At least it isn't us for a change." Ron sighed in relief after Snape's furious roar, the man sweeping through the rows of tables to the mangled cauldron and the startled Seamus and Dean at the back of the room. Black robes streaming around him as the two shrunk back in terror,

"And at least they're away from us for a change." Delphi nodded her agreement as she ground up toadstools with a pestle,

"You make out as if that will stop Snape from finding some other nonsensical fault with our work." Hermione grimly sighed after turning back from looking over her shoulder, relieved that Snape was at least escorting the two Gryffindors to the Hospital Wing as he informed them of the months of detention he was about to make them endure,

"Once the bell rings, bottle you attempts, label them, put them on my desk and get the hell out of my classroom." Snape snapped, ushering Dean and Seamus (who had purple boils popping up and down their arms and face) and pulling the door closed behind him. The inevitable snickers and chatter that permeated a classroom a teacher had vacated rising up as soon as the door clicked shut, continuing on until the lunch bell released them.

They were bustled into the Entrance Hall with the flood of students on their way to lunch, the four deep in careless chatter before they were unexpectedly interrupted.

"Hello Delphini!" Was an exuberant greeting from behind the four of them, the group starting aggressively before swirling round in near synchronized terror. The four looking up in startled confusion at the pigtailed, bespectacled ghost who's head and shoulders were peeking out from the corridor ceiling,

"Jesus woman, you scared us!" Ron roared out, choking a bit after a vicious slap on the back from Hermione's quick hand,

"Manners Ronald." She snapped angrily and scorched away his irritated glare with a fiercer one of her own,

"Hi there, Myrtle." Delphi greeted with a shaky smile, going so far to offer a tentative wave as Moaning Myrtle's own arm dropped into view and she all but waved off her transparent arm. The ghost girl dressed in the school's uniform slowly floating through the ceiling and began to right herself and hovered in the air whilst Delphi's friends turned to her in confusion,

"You know her?" Harry asked in incredulity,

"Harry. Undiscovered tribes in New Guinea probably know who Moaning Myrtle is." Ron spat out deadpan, "She cries loud enough."

"She is also right here." Myrtle spat, Ron squeaking in fright when he found himself nose to nose with an angrily pouting ghost girl with her balled fists slammed against her hips in irritation,

"I- erm… I…"

"Sorry for Ron, M-Myrtle. He didn't mean…" Harry trailed off in his apology for his friend, knowing that there was about to be a lie passing his lips, "Yeah, sorry."

"It's ok, Harry Potter, I don't blame you." She smiled and crooned with a sultry tone that caused Harry's eyes to widen in surprise and his cheeks flame up in colour, Myrtle retreating from Ron's personal bubble to sidle along to Harry. Confused at the apprehensive almost defensive stance Delphi and Hermione took as she discreetly licked her lips and her eyes drifted up and down him,

"Erm, hey Myrtle. What're you doing down here?" Delphi asked curiously, smiling a bit shakily when her ghost friends head flicked around, and her spectral pigtails whipped across and through Ron and Harry's face,

"Hey Delphi. I just wanted to see you and your friends. Haven't met them all yet."

"Or was it just so you could see Harry Potter in person?" Hermione carefully asked, though the corner of her lip lifted in a smirk as she stared, "And nice to meet you Myrtle, I'm Hermione."  
"Hey there." She cheerily, surprising them all by holding out her hand to be shook.

Trepidation permeated the air as Hermione looked to the ghostly hand held out towards her, incredibly conscious of her friends curious yet expectant gaze. She made to meet it, grasping hand inevitably going through it as if it were air,

"HAHAHAHA! You actually did it?!" Myrtle hand was yanked away as she tried to cover her mouth, split by a furious grin as she unleashed furious laughter. Contagious enough to prompt a chuckle from Delphi, a snicker held behind his hand by Harry and a cautious yet amused smile from Ron, "Not too incredibly bright I guess. But I like you."

Hermione flushed, and Myrtle grinned more broadly as her laughter came back under her control.

"I have to admit, I did slip free from my haunting grounds so that I could get a good look at the Boy Who Lived." Myrtle shrugged noncommittally before a devious grin flashed glittery, ghostly pearls. She drifted forward quickly, halting almost nose to nose with the boy in question, flinching back at her lightning fast approach, "Though, I have to admit, this is not the first time I have _**seen**_ Harry Potter. But it is a novelty experience to see him from the angle, and for him to actually see me."

She retreated somewhat from the clearly uncomfortable teen as her mischievous aura morphed into one quite clearly… lecherous,

"I have to say that your far prettier a sight up close than from the ceilings of showers, or from the bottom of a toilet bowl…"

The quartet were given no time to reflect on what they had just hear before a loud, joyful greeting from a familiar blonde haired Ravenclaw who had just entered the room.

"Hello there Hermione Granger and friends." Luna Lovegood greeted with a wave as she drifted into the Entrance Hall from a Herbology class with her years Slytherin's, smiling dreamily and airily despite the disdainful looks from her classmates as she floated over to them (the group internalizing that information for a later date), "I am curious, how did your meeting with Professor Dumbledore go yesterday?"

Silence hung in the air for a full ten seconds.

"Wait, you had a meeting with Dumbledore?" Harry turned to his stunned stiff friend, "For what?"

"Oh… It would appear that I have said the wrong thing again." Luna quietly murmured whilst shrinking away from the quartet and the curious ghost. Hermione desperately shook her had and hands with a stuttering response to her staring, expectant friends,  
"N-N-Nothing. H-Honestly, nothing important."  
"Blatantly it wasn't 'nothing', even my dumb ass knows you don't go to the Headmaster for 'nothing.'" Ron lowly stated with a slow smirk, "You shouldn't keep secrets from your friends."

Hermione's expression became scrunched in discomfort, but Harry was quick to slice in,

"Maybe it's something she doesn't want to talk about right now." He spoke, tone uncharacteristically empathetic, face and body heating when four pairs of eyes fell on him, "J-Just let it be, tell us what happened when you feel like it."

He looked over to her with a softer voice and equal smile of comfort, something she quietly returned. He shut down his friend's curiosity despite feeling that same burning desire for information, as Harry had no real leg to stand on. As if he had any right to pester (despite his aggressive curiosity) when he had yet to tell them of his own with Dumbledore.

"And to be honest Ronald, everyone keeps secrets." Delphi sighed out in her address, "As long as it doesn't affect us we should be entitled to them. We can tell one another when it's appropriate."

They missed the twinge on his face whilst Myrtle floated above the quartet wondering why she'd even bothered trying to make friends if they were just going to ignore her. So, she quietly floated up into the ceiling and out of sight whilst Luna slinked away into the Great Hall for a cheese sandwich…

"Wait." Harry quickly spoke up, "What the hell did that Myrtle say about showers and toilet bowls?"

* * *

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* * *

It was not common, but not unseen, for a student of Hogwarts school to leave the castle during term time. Many wizarding families, particularly purebloods and ancient houses, were known to

This was often for events that required their heirs presence (balls, galas, even weddings and funerals), or to pass confidential or sensitive information between parties…

Such as this situation at Malfoy Manor, located hidden behind magical and mundane barriers as a four-tiered building of a glorious mixture of white and gold, swollen to a ridiculous nine thousand square foot abode. Here, the young and only son and heir of the Malfoy family sat straight backed in a sun backed conservatory, surrounded by vases of flowers and small shrubs (elegantly shaped and positioned on the side lines) at a small table buried under a white tablecloth with an intricate china tea set between him and his father.

"A parselmouth, you say?" Lucius hissed out in quiet, elegant incredulity. He gracefully ran a soft hand down his hip length platinum locks and smoothed out the lap of his delicate and intricate black and blue dress robes.

"Are you certain of this, Draco?" His mother spoke up, Narcissa having momentarily been distracted by the stylistic white streak that seared down her back surrounded by her dark blonde hair, "This is a harsh statement that we cannot afford to not take serious should it be true."

"You can confirm it with Professor Snape, mother. He was present when Potter conversed with the snake I summoned." Draco stated as his tea cup gently clicked against his saucer and placed it down upon the table, "The vast majority of the school suspect him of being the Heir of Slytherin or have not discounted the possibility. He's also confirmed to have been unaccounted for during one of the attacks."

"No alibi, huh?" Narcissa's low hum of a reply, cogs visibly turning and pieces slotting together behind her pale blue eyes, "It's isn't possible that a Potter could possibly be targeting muggleborns."

"Exactly." Lucius spat out firmly, avoiding the penetrating gaze of his wife at her sudden piercing gaze, "The Potter's are a family historical known for blood traitors."

Quiet conversation filled the room before it was time for their son to leave and return to school. They watched their son walk to the edge of the wards a disappear with a swish as his portkey activated. The couple left to revel in the chilling breeze of the November afternoon, breathing in the ice in the air and enjoying the peaceful swishing of leaves.

"What did you do, Lucius?" Narcissa coldly hissed out her question whilst her husband feigned hurt and surprise,  
"You wound me." His hand moved to his chest and a smirk lifted a corner of his lips,

"Do not joke, Lucius. Our son is in danger." A flame of hate and aggression snapped the elder Malfoy's attention to his wife in surprise, "Your plan, the consequences that have been wrought upon the victims and that use of Parseltongue by the Potter boy means that there is only one creature that could be stalking the halls of that school."

Lucius's face scrunched in confusion before the information hit him and an icy chill ran down his spine,

"The fact that you are unaware has just saved your life, my love." Narcissa spoke lowly,

"To think that the Dark Lord had such a thing at his disposal." Lucius's words shuddered past his lips before he shook his head, "Draco mentioned that the targets were only 'enemies of the heir', as a Malfoy he is undoubtedly the Dark Lords ally."  
"The Dark Lord was always an… unpredictable figure. I think we should pull Draco from the school for his own safety."  
"Not a chance Narcissa." Lucius snapped, he held his wife's gaze until she suppliantly bowed her head. His husband looking to his wife with a sigh before he pressed lips to the top of his beloved's head, "He will be ok, I will make sure the Dark Lord never has any reason nor inclination to harm our son."  
"I cannot lose him Lucius." Her voice was weak and small, her arms wrapping around her husband's waist as his encircled her shoulders. The two gently squeezing one another in comfort,  
"I will give my own life if I have to." He decreed hotly, his incensed response met with a nuzzle from his wife. The two pulling away from one another, remaining in very deep thought as they once again silently surveyed the early winter afternoon beyond their doorstep.

"What are you thinking, my love?"

"I'm thinking of a way to ensure that my plans do not come back to bite me, and that the Potter boy is weakened also." Lucius spoke to his wife softly, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought, "This should give us a leg to stand upon should… should the Dark Lord ever return…"

His mind drifted as his wife looked up at him in both deeper thought and appreciation, a loving smile curling her full bow lips in a gentle, loving smile as he pondered. Lucius Malfoy's mind rocking from one plot to the next before he settled on the simplest and most efficient way to gain the results he required. Hoping that, as his father Abraxas had preached on those gentle nights in his youth as he advised him, simplistic plans would once again find itself as the best possible course of action.

"I'm going to turn in early for tonight, my dear." Lucius murmured in an elegant tone, linking his hands behind his back and twirling about to head back indoors, "I do believe I'll pay dear Cornelius a visit tomorrow."

The man allowed a smug smirk to light up his face as he strode, certain of a way to ensure his families prosperity.

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* * *

.

The realm was bright, every shade of the bright greens of the grass, the orange, reds and browns of the autumn leaves, and even the slate grey of the concrete path the duo occupied were portrayed in bright, artificial colour that was bleached lighter by a relentless, blazing sun in the crystal-clear sky.

"Tsk, a Demon Realm this obnoxiously bright is unforgivable." The scantily clad woman with dark armour covering her erogenous zones (to keep some level of dignity) as she flicked her paper white hair over her shoulder, stood boredly yet expectantly on the treelined pathway in this unfamiliar pastel palette world.

"But this isn't a Demon Realm, my dear. This… IS WONDERLAND!" The white dressed female in all her pale, cherubic glory (dressed in an elegant cream sundress) twirled about with her arms outstretched. Gesturing to the surroundings behind them, with a glorious grin, "And what a wonderful place it is to be!"

Princess Druella and the Queen of Hearts, Lilim Succubi and two of the daughters of the illustrious Demon Lord stood face to face, appearing in the hidden path in a world far beyond Earth and the realms inhabited by human beings.

"To what do I owe the unexpected, yet welcome, privilege of your presence, little sister?" The Queen smiled up with hard set ruby eyes, a false smile met with an equally hateful glare from the physically bigger of the two sisters,

"I warn you, I have already laid my claim on my sweetheart. So, I would recommend that you and your agents were to back off." She seethed icily behind a mask of false, graceful disinterest. Matching her physically smaller sibling's malevolent sneer when it softly twisted her childish lips,

"And I would like to warn you, dear sister of mine." She stepped closer with a dark look in her eyes with a stony serious expression, "I am not the only one who has declared their interest in the little Potter boy."

"I'm not afraid of a few whores who have tasted my sweetheart already."

"You shouldn't be, but you should be wary of the Goddess of Pandemonium, whose envoys are already on the move against you."

Druella was unable to even mask her violent disbelief,

"Wha- Why would SHE of all people have an interest in Harry Potter of all beings?" Druella snapped out in a hissed question, shaking her head as she internally reeled, "No, how does she even know the child even exists?"

"I have my theories, none of which I feel the desire to share with you." Her majesty spun on her feet and began to prance away to her distant palace, "Good luck in your endeavours, Druella. You will almost CERTAINLY require it."

Druella was already gone before she had finished her sentence. The Queen of Hearts completely unperturbed by the flagrant disrespect.

The players were assembled. The game was afoot…

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* * *

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 **Goddamnit this took way too goddamn long! I had to take a little break to work on uni, so the blitz of updates came to a grinding halt whilst I got my life together. Thank you for your patience xxx**


	15. Chapter 15

**VentXekart: Thanks a bunch. Good guess, not quite right but good guess…**

 **DRAGONDAVE45: Glad you're enjoying it. I'm looking forward to the next few…**

 **Blazingkill: No comment…**

 **Thanks as always Spartan3909. And thank you to BadLuckBunny for pointing out my f**k up last chapter.**

 **For the Guest reviewer, not to be rude, cruel or whatever but I have had a similar Review to yours prior to this and would like to say again that this story is exactly where I intend for it to be. This story is a triple-crossover with MGE, Monster Musume and Harry Potter content but Fanfiction does not let me highlight it that way. And on the topic of tone, no offence but I am only adhering to the characters, lore and locations and not the overall tone because I don't really have to. Sorry if that's not your cup of tea.**

 **On a more positive note, hope you got your fluff fix. Sorry you couldn't find it in this story but hope you still found it somewhere else. Would recommend 'Loved By the Monster Girls' if you haven't read it (that goes for everyone else as well, I love that fic). Sounds exactly like what you're looking for.**

 **Thank you for reading, hope to hear from you all again soon. Lots of love and thanks for reading so far. Xx**

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A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:

Chapter 15

As a Muggle in this world, there is one fact that no matter how much you learn or how long you live you will never learn. It is an unfortunate reality that was dictated to them from the moment that they were born as they were.

The world is far larger than it seems.

This is a moot point in many eyes, most Muggles having no true comprehension of the size of the world that they live in anyway. But that issue is compounded by the fact that even if they were to journey to every corner of the planet as according to their maps of the Earth (assuming they had the lifespan and resources in order to make the trip) they would not come close to scratching the surface of what is and is not on the planet Earth with them and the rest of humanity.

That's magic for you…

Cities trapped in bottles, entire continents squeezed into miniscule points on the map, whole worlds existing parallel to the Earth and its people. Atlantis, Zipangu, Wonderland, whole nations ruled alongside and away from the place most of humanity called 'Earth'. Space and time warped to such a degree that their interaction with the rest of humanity fell near to zero as to the inordinate lack of explorers and such rediscovering those wonders that lay so close.

With the wonders of magic at the fingertips of millions of beings, the human race hadn't the faintest clue the true scale of the world they lived upon…

Lescatie was one of those "hidden kingdoms", unique even amongst its others around the globe. It is a nation that was removed from history.

The signing and implement of the International Statute of Secrecy in the early 1690's marked one of the first major acts of power that the ICW were able to effectively exercise upon the wizarding world they proclaimed to represent. The fierceness and viciousness of witch-hunts by increasingly intolerant Muggles sending wizards, witches and most others of the magical world hurtling into hiding if they weren't already. Entire towns and cities vanishing from the world under veils of magical wards.

But many disagreed.

Ministries and the ICW would not be all powerful until hundreds of years later, there laws nowhere near considered doctrine or ironclad. So many felt free to spit in the face, even as their own fledgling government came down upon them with the same ruthlessness that the witch hunters were. Individual wizards and witches, and even the small groups and armies that they had raised to defend their ideals were battered and fell under the vicious assault of the first concentrated magical force of its size in human history. The Ministry's of Magic (and their equivalents worldwide) quick to prove their authority by railing down upon any and all who challenged their rule.

But as powerful as they proved to be, no Ministry (nor the international body that linked them) could possibly stand against an entire nation that opposed their new rules.

Nations like the Kingdom of Lescatie. A nation where the magicals had forever been in charge rather than the muggles, thus the very concept of witch hunting had been obliterated before it could exit its infancy. Completely ignorant to the terror and suffering the magicals of the globe suffered at the hands of their non-magical hunters, they looked to the Statute of Secrecy and refused.

Deliberation, political sanctions and half a decade of aggression before an agreement was met. Lescatie (and any other nation not willing to divide its magical half from its non-magical) were hidden from sight and discovery from any and all who did not know of its existence. Deleted from history by the new-fangled yet unarguably talented Obliviators of the world, scouring the globe to ensure not even a whisper of these lost nations would be left in the minds of those who lived on their planet.

Lescatie was and remains a nation state of magic and religion, ruled by a monarchy that sat atop a hierarchy of nobility and religious sects and orders. Despite their higher echelons being nigh-exclusively wizards and witches

From the outside looking in, many wizard and witches (Purebloods in particular) saw the hidden domain as a veritable paradise. Magic could be performed publicly and (if you were so politically inclined) magicals held a clear, immutable place as higher in social standing than any and all muggles and other non-magicals.

Inside looking out, the citizens may disagree…

Harsh religious decrees, polarising and controversial shifts in law and social trends occurring regularly, high and heavy taxation with vicious recourse on those who failed to pay. Corruption, degeneracy, vicious and seething social dissent bubbling under the surface as any declaration of disagreement had more often than not been met with violence and savagery by law enforcement. All of this held in addition to the church and the states maddeningly violent disposition towards monsters, non-humans and non-magicals left the nation of Lescatie a mere hair-breadth away from open civil war for near the past century.

A nation in near constant turmoil and disillusionment, this is where Stormguard, Emperor of the Goblin hordes, sent his request. Seeing fit to have his deal with Princess Druella (the training of her precious one) dealt with by the warriors of a nation forever seconds way from destroying itself…

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* * *

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Francisca Mistel Lescatie was fortunate to be walking.

Fortunate. Lucky. They were words the fourth Princess of the Lescatie Kingdom had heard day in day out since she had been able to comprehend speech.

Lucky to be breathing

Lucky to be here.

Fortunate to still be alive.

She truly was though, despite the snide and insidious tone and manner such comments had been made in. The truth behind the mockery cutting far deeper than the words themselves.

Her body had been definitively violated by a blood malediction that literally and figuratively had crippled her from birth. The disease leaving her unable to care for herself and perform many (if any at all) duties as a Princess of the family. And as if to add insult to injury, the cruel illnesses ravaging of her body left her infertile, thus she couldn't even be sold off in marriage by her more than disgruntled mother and father.

Lustrous indigo hair curled up in glorious twin tails that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. Garbed in a frilly, stylistic gown of violet, indigo and lime curving and rolling across her thin frame that stepped and stumbled down the hall of the palace on purple heels. Her step unsure and careful, an indicator of poor or minimum practice with the straight-backed posture the nervous looking young woman was holding. Her timid steps muffled by the thick velvet that covered most of the pristine marble floor of the high-ceilinged hall as she made quick step to the palace cloisters. The high-arches carved into ancient stone gave Francisca's tired yet appreciative eyes something to distract herself with as she briefly shivered from the cool air of November. She briefly looked out into the courtyard and breathed in the scent of wet leaves and grass from the gigantic, ancient oak that had already shed its leaves for the cold season.

The doors towered above her, dark wooden doors flanked on either side by claymore toting knights in full silver plate armour. Their faces obscured by curved helmets without a trait reminiscent of humanity, yet she shuddered as she felt rather than saw their gaze on her. She cleared her throat and shook her head, her hands fidgeting and grasping at the front of her dress before she stepped forth and pushed the heavy door open.

Before her was the main palace dining room, a room comparable in size to a cathedral occupied by a single long table that looked and felt like a mile long. On each side of the table were gentleman and ladies in various garb of equivalent opulence and beauty, thin armour, flowing robes, dresses and suits sat before a lavish banquet of more dishes than even Francisca could comprehend. The heroes and leaders of their nation dressed up in their finest robes as they talked and bellowed between one another in a way only those who adored the sound of their own voices could.

Looking past them all to the end, Francisca looked upon her father. Two pairs of cushioned chairs vacant as they lead up to the King at the head of the table, one of which Francisca recognised as hers (the chairs of the four princesses of Lescatie). The head of the table was a highbacked throne of a chair, a stylish mixture of stained black wood encased in an immaculate frame of ivory, said ivory forming the arms of the throne that the King leaned so heavily upon, tapping irate fingers into the furious, intricate dragons carved into the arm of his chair.

The space, once enough for two (the King and his Queen), occupied by the glorious chair far too large even for the bear of a man that was her father the king. Rippling muscles and sharp features hidden by glorious gold armour, black and crimson robes and thick, salt and pepper beard. King Castor Bistoa Lescatie drumming his fingers into his chair as he glared over at his daughter with iced lime eyes.

As she strode conversations stopped or were muffled as heads turned to her, not appreciative or welcoming, more snide or malicious. She shuddered under the weight of it, as her poised steps devolved into timid shuffling across the room to her seat. Only stopping, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, when she stood before her father the king, curtseying with shaking knees in a polite greeting.

"I-I-I gr-greet you, l-lord father." Francisca's voice, soft as silk, greeting her father's dispassionate gaze.

"Daughter." His one-word response delivered without emotion or warmth. The King turned away his gaze almost immediately and returned to conversation with a white bearded elderly man about something to do with Goblins, Francisca softly sliding into her chair and quietly serving herself under the smirking/disgusted expressions of the others sitting at the table. The heavy, icy pit in the bottom of her stomach almost murdering her appetite as her ears picked up the comments the lords and ladies of her country about her actions

Francisca wanted to scream, to rant and rave at these… this scum.

' _I am a princess, why am I not treated as one? What is the point of a title with no authority?!'_ She seethed her silent practiced rant as yet another dark-haired servant in the white and purple uniform of the serving staff flagrantly watched her struggle for a dish of potatoes and walked away. Francisca's own sharply diminishing willpower the only thing halting the tears from falling form her prickling eyes under the snickers and stares of an audience of complicit bullies.

Almost like a small child, Francisca guiltily turned her gaze to her father in hopeful question. His eyes weren't on her initially and her cheeks flushed in rage fuelled embarrassment that the King of a country would sit idly by whilst his daughter was being so flagrantly insulted. He just continued talking about a letter he had received and a boy.

Then his gaze sharply turned to him.

Francisca felt a cold dread settle across her like a cold blanket of ice under the piercing, curious gaze of the King. The mere sight of his clearly whirring mind and the machinations that were clearly being formed behind his dark eyes.

The small smile that ghosted across his face only intensifying the feeling.

"My friends, I believe Francisca shall be left in charge of the boy's wellbeing whilst he trains in our kingdom."

The hall quickly fell quiet. Aghast, expressions of vicious disbelief fell onto the face of the princess in question and the King's catatonic court,

"Your majesty!"  
"You cannot be serious, your majesty?!"  
"This is highly inappropriate."

"This could be perceived as disrespect, my liege."

"The disrespect has already been thrown our way." The King's reply was sharp and scathing, silencing the disorder like a gavel, "The Goblin's do not require us for anything, that is why their favour from us has remained unclaimed for so long."

"But they need something from us now?"  
In unison, their heads turned to Francisca as she spoke. Gazes searching and without warmth, causing the Princess to shift uncomfortably under their nigh predatory gaze and shrink even further back into her seat,

"Blatantly, your highness." Lord Noscrim, shrivelled and short by age, sharp features marred by violent wrinkles, age old scars with fat and flab from overindulgence. His impertinence met with no recourse or objection.

"Daughter, in the coming months we shall play host to the newest ward of the Emperor of the Goblins."

The king allowed his words to hang in the air, their weight heavy in the air with harsh importance. Francisca cowed even further by them and the harsh gaze of her indifferent father,

"Understand that relations between ourselves and the Goblin nation may hinge upon this very encounter. I do not think I have to express what ramifications may fall upon our kingdom should anything go wrong." King Castor's eyes grew harder as he glared at his daughter, her fingers worrying through the skirts of her dress as she fidgeted, "You are free to use any resources the capital has at its disposal to ensure young Master Potter wants for nothing."

His gaze held hers for some time, Francisca only realising that her father was expecting a response when he cleared his throat and raised a poised eyebrow expectantly,

"Ah, err, umm. Un-Understood y-your majesty." Francisca stammered out, face flushing crimson when she noted snickers, smirks and expressions of scowling disappointment.

"Should the slightest whisper of complaint find its way to my ear, the most minute of a negative from our guest. You _**will**_ be dealt with in the only way that is appropriate for bringing such shame upon our nation and family."

The flush vanished, the colour draining entirely from her face as she felt as if she had been dunked into ice. The world swayed around her seat and she struggled to breath, the glares and murmurs of their disproval or snide agreement rattled through Francisca's mind distantly, as if she were hearing the words whilst submerged under water.

She was silent and numb as she rose from her chair after her fathers quick, sharp dismissal. The girl only remembering the smug glint behind her father's eyes in hindsight. Reviewing the encounter again and again in her jumbled mind on her way back to her chambers, hacking coughs and dizzy given an inappropriately short glance by the many disinterested that crossed her path.

The return journey absent of the pretend poise or feigned confidence. Francisca's thoughts less occupied on where she was going (travelling through the decadent halls on muscle memory alone) as she was purely focussed on what on earth she was going to do.

She collapsed onto a desk chair in her chambers limply, feeling hollow and drained yet still torn by an incredible feeling of panic,

"I don't know how to handle a guest of the family. Especially not one who's part of a royal family!" She spoke aloud, after a choking cough that rattled her ribs and scorched her chest. Hoping that speaking to the silent empty room she may yet come up with the bare bones of a plan.

Two knocks shattered her sharp concentration. A fast turn of the head to the pale doors of her room started even Francisca, the one doing it, but she was able to take a deep steadying breath and call out,

"E-Enter!" The door knob turning after the utterance of the first symbol, Francisca hurling herself out of her plush chair quickly when the aged, shiny bald-headed butler of the castle Reginald (bushy grey moustache curled at either end and tired eyes surveying the room as he quickly adjusted the black tie of his black and white uniform) stepped over the threshold of her room and held open the door. Clearing his throat and speaking with a noticeable hoarse croak,

"Announcing third princess of the kingdom of Lescatie, Princess Esmerelda Asta Lescatie." He announced as a tall, regal woman (pale, high cheekbones and the elegant poise and step of a princess or a killer)

Tall and slim, Princess Esmerelda walked into Francisca's room with nary a glance to her younger sister with her bored red eyes. Striding into the room on long, slender legs wrapped in impossibly soft stockings and hidden beneath the rose red skirts of her dress which stylishly differed from her jet-black bodice. Her crimson hair fell in elaborate twin drills on either side of her head that fell to her chest.

"Sister Esmerelda!" Francisca could not contain her relief and excitement at the sight of a familiar face, allowing her to look past her sisters clearly unimpressed survey of her and her room, "It is so good to see you."  
"Father sent me." It was sharp, but effective. Smashing the warm feeling of hope that had begun to form in her chest, "I am to convey a message to follow up with the instruction you received earlier."

Francisca's eyes dropped and her hands scrunched up her skirts as she blinked back the prickle and pressure of tears in her eyes and nose, missing Esmerelda's pained look as it vanished as soon as she looked back up,

"Y-You s-said that f-father had sent you?" Meek and little, even as she settled her face into a brave mask of tempered emotions,  
"He did, to issue you with a timeline." Esmerelda's gaze was unsympathetic as she almost glared down at her feeble sister, "We are expecting the boy sometime after Yule, thus you need to have your affairs in order. You will no longer be welcome in the castle and should ensure you have enough to satiate yourself with wherever you end up."

"Tha- W-Wait!" Francisca flinched at the sharp turn of her sister's gaze back to her that her words dies in her throat.

"It's politics, sister. Whether you actually succeed in this task, father has a quick and easy excuse to be rid of the daughter that offers nothing to this family." Her cruel, smug tone and smirk causing nary a flinch from the victim, Francisca crushed just that little more inside (yet a brave face still being held). "Just like that boy, you mean nothing to this family. You are just as useless as he is."

And she exited, no further comments or an offered valediction. She was gone, and Reginald straightened his tails and shut the door behind them. Leaving Francisca still battling furiously against the cascade of tears that wanted to pour past her violet eyes, refusing to shed a single tear as she fell back into her seat and turned herself towards her writing desk. Pain, humiliation and sorrow briefly morphing into white rage, her anger causing her to snatch a corked bottle of ink and hurl it across the room with a furious, wordless scream. Breathing heavily as it smashed satisfyingly against her closed door, black ink snaking slow paths down the white painted wood.

One thought became another at the image, inspiration hitting like wildfire for a course of action to take.

If Esmerelda was telling the truth (and she unfortunately had no reason to think her sister was doing anything other) then she had very little time left in the palace. Her father evidently growing weary of dealing with a perpetually ill child. Her heart clenched at the idea as her blood boiled, leaving her to further curse her weak body. It had lost her friends, her station, her dignity, her confidence and it would now lose her her home and family. There was naught she could do, truthfully, besides hope. Which is what drove her to take her still shaking hands and grab parchment and writing tools (including another bottle of ink) and she settled into a comfortable position to write.

Thus, even as the world continued to spin, and her heart continued to hammer a path out of her chest, Francisca steadied her hand with soft, steadying breaths and picked up a quill. Parchment was unrolled, and she carefully unscrewed the lid of her inkwell and set about penning a letter for her kingdom's soon to be guest. Signing it off with a flourish and hopeful smile before handing it to a patient messenger hawk and watching the bird fly off until it disappeared over the horizon.

.

* * *

.

They arrived at the site after a walk that had lasted a full half hour. The Goblins descent on the site of a powerful magical presence in the Sahara Desert (that appeared quite literally out of nowhere in a split second) and their subsequent claim over the site had involved an anti-apparition and portkey ward about 2 miles in circumference from the site with fully armoured Goblin warriors patrolling in the sweltering heat within it.

Such mysterious phenomena were not entirely unheard of in this area of the world, the third largest desert on the planet (particularly areas in and around the nation of Egypt) was drenched in a deep history that was lost even to the self-proclaimed all-knowing wizards and witches. Despite the possession of incredible divination, time travel and having coveted the very secrets of the Earth from their magically deficient cousins for several thousand years, they were yet to discover all of the secrets of the planet they lived upon.

Which is where curse breakers came in.

Half a dozen figures marched through quickly erected camp sites filed to the brim with self-writing parchment scrolls (quills hovering unaided in the air as the scrawled, feathers darting down to inkwell's frequently as their nibs ran dry), glowing ward stones and magical implements pulsing and humming alongside the buzz and movement of the witches, wizards and goblins running back and forth in the abruptly organised pandemonium.

The sand sunk beneath each step of theirs in the area known as the Ténéré desert, as onlookers would see the two humans (accompanied by their small escort of goblin warriors) swatting away the heat and bugs with their wands as the were hurried along, with purpose. A male, tall, thin and roguishly handsome, he walked with a rushed stride and a curious (nay, giddily excited) eye at all around him. Dark dragonhide boots stomped through the sand and were matched in material by the heavy jacket over his white t-shirt and with his black jeans. Red hair long and held up in a ponytail and hazel eyes glittering in childish glee, his inappropriate garb for the weather and conditions was noticed with equal confusion and incredulity as the large animal fang hanging loose and proud on his left ear.

The second was a female. Her eyes were heterochromatic and filled with a deep distaste at her surroundings, one purple the other grey and both displeased with the scenario she found herself in currently. She stood at barely half the height of her male companion in a blood red kimono that was adorned sporadically in golds, browns and yellows shaped like large autumn leaves. Like her companion, her hair was long, though she let it fall straight and freely down her back at a length so ridiculous it almost brushed along the sand behind her with every step.

"Why is it so ridiculously hot!?" The woman whine aloud as she brushed her wand across her forehead in a gesture reminiscent of wiping away sweat. Her complaint met with a chuckle and smirk from her companion before his sarcastic reply as he craned his neck to see past a tent flap they were walking past,

"Is that a trick question?"

"Don't run your mouth at me, William Weasley. No one will find your body out here." The young woman turned her head to glare and William turned his head to hold up his hand in surrender though her expression did not budge from its irritation as a smirk still dominate the young man's face.

The two were the hired help. Yasuri Togame, a Japanese witch with a very clear accent that made its presence known in certain pronunciations of English words, accompanied by her second, William (better known as Bill) Weasley, a British wizard of the corresponding countries Gringotts Bank. Both notified by their mutual employer that they (and they alone) were to make themselves available for the foreseeable future in order to investigate what they believed to be a new tomb discovered in an uncharted area of the desert. Said tomb having only appeared to the rest of the world after this colossal, yet entirely unknown, magical source had battered every magical sensor on the continent of Africa.

"To be fair, this heat is bothering me too." Bill sighed out his complaint as he dragged the sleeve of his jacket over his forehead and cleared away errant sweat, "Why do I have to suffer? There are far better curse breakers at the bank who could be dealing with this over me. I still need to get stuff sorted for Christmas for god sake!"

"You may be inexperienced, but you're skilled. That's all goblins care for William Weasley." She responded without looking up at him, rolling her wrists from within the loose sleeves of her kimono until they clicked satisfyingly. The two silently approached a barrier to the centre of the camp, separated from the rest by a floating circle perimeter of fluorescent tape, "You should only worry about being appropriately honoured over being one of the first curse breakers to breach a tomb lost to mankind."

"I'm just hoping it's not another Khepri nest." Bill muttered as he held the tape above his head and stepped over to threshold of the very centre of the site, gentlemanly offering the same courtesy to Togame who nodded a head in gratitude as she passed under herself.

"Prompt as usual." Came a gruff greeting from a goblin in a blue and white pinstriped suit with a bright red tie. The small figure gave a sharp nod in response to their short bows and greetings before ushering them along towards their destination, leaving the four halberd bearing goblins that had brought the humans so far to do whatever.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Griphook. I trust gold still grows numerous under your careful care?"

"Why would it not, Mr Weasley?" Griphook offered the curse breaker a sarcastic tone and a smug smirk up at the man as he shuffled along. His expression solidified into something more serious as they made their way to the hole, a gaping maw that had consumed meter after meter of the earth and sand, a glorified sink hole reminiscent in size to a football field. Surrounded by a two-foot-high wall of cobbled stone and veins of gold, pulsing with a magic that gave off its own noticeable miasma of heat in these despicable conditions.

"The report mentioned a tomb, is there any further information you can provide, Master Griphook?" Togame inquired in a curious yet professional tone,

"It would appear that tomb is likely an understatement." Griphook provided to his listeners quiet surprise, "From what little I have seen, it is almost as if a castle or small town was consumed by the sand, but you will have to bring this up with the experts already down there."

"For a something of that size to disappear, that is surprising."

"It depends on how old the area is." Bill concurred to Togame's muttered response, "Though if it is the source of the disturbance then we can assume it held some significance before it was lost."

"I detect apprehension in you, Mr Weasley." Griphook sneered and Bill shook his head,

"I'm not ashamed of being a bit wary." He responded and Griphook's sneer lessened, "Whatever is down there was strong enough to be felt all over the continent and even in Southern Europe. Who knows what we'll find…"

"Regardless, if what you said about the size is accurate, a full excavation of the area could take months." Togame changed the subject with a murmur, more to herself than to her two companions. Forgetting for a moment his quite palpable fear of the titanic magical source beneath his feet, Bill allowed himself to picture the earful his mother would give him if he DARED to miss a family gathering. Especially at Christmas of all times for work of all things,

"Bollocks." He hissed, regretting not calling in sick and ignoring his partners almost outraged expression.

"Thank you, Harbringer." Griphook croaked in grateful greeting as they approached a rudimentary lift of sorts, a wooden platform held within a steel frame that descended into the endless darkness of the hole, another goblin (this time garbed in a thin grey robe with the Gringotts Banks regalia displayed proudly over his left breast) stood before a lever and pulley towered over his diminutive size.

Stomachs lurched as the goblin Harbringer gave a mighty heave of the lever and they were all but dropped into the darkness. Hurtling at worrying speed to an unseeable bottom, the humans holding onto to rickety barriers for dear life whilst their goblin companions stood unaided. Griphook and Harbringer in cordial chat about an account at the bank that Bill and Togame were too terrified to pay any further attention to.

The conclusion of their descent was as odd as it was abrupt. The screech of whistling air and the sudden blaze of light as they passed through the bottom of the wards a good two miles and 5 minutes after their freefall immediately less intrusive. Instead of the crush and crash of bedrock that Bill had silently feared would be one of his last sensations, the lift collided with something spongy and soft which greatly cushioned and slowed their descent in the last few meters.

'A cushioning charm, huh?' His silent assessment as he felt confident enough to release the death grip on the metal support bar that his white knuckles had held. He ventured a glance at his partner for the day and smirked at her shaking knees and clear violent nausea. He contemplated moving to offer relief or assistance, but the mental image of projectile vomit spewing from her pale, trembling lips gave him significant pause. Instead he left her to the tender care of the goblin Harbringer, known back at the bank as one of the softer hearted goblins of Gringotts,

"Get off, witch." Harbringer ordered with narrowed eyes.

The significant disparity of the heat from above left the trio visibly shivering when they exited the lift, Bill and Togame noting the copious warming charms on the thing (utilised to trap the heat of the desert within) as it rose back up to the surface. The three new arrivals turning their gaze from the quickly rising departure to their new surroundings.

The cavern was massive, lit by spherical paper lanterns floating, bobbing and weaving between knife sharp stalactites in some kind of rustic parody of the Hogwarts Great Hall. Alongside them came the thinnest of streams of weak sunlight, the sun itself a distant speck above them, the group only now taking notice of how the hole had narrowed into a smaller, cylinder of space upon their descent.

The entire area unfolding before them like an underground stadium, gigantic and bussing with noise. Lab coats and professional robes the garb of choice for many a wizard and witch, grouped together in the dozens as they examined walls with magnifying glasses or read readings on whirring and smoking devices of silver in incredulous shouts.

But the centre piece, standing out absurdly against the dark shadows and dark stone was the entrance, an entrance to what appeared to be a glorious palace. The heady browns and beiges of sandstone stood out aggressively from the deeper browns, greys and even blacks of the rest of the stone in the cavern with it. Contained within the sandstone were a pair of dark wooden doors, completely untouched by the wear and tear of the passage of time. Standing glossy and clean, in some places the shimmer of the light could be seen running across their surface. They were humongous, 10's of feet tall and equipped with two huge golden, circular knockers which would look comfortable in the hands of giants.

Yet despite the colossal size of the sight before them, the newcomers were slightly distracted by the noise over the visuals. Particularly one sound in particular,

"Is that… knocking?" Bill verbalised his disbelieving question, neither Togame or Griphook electing to comment though they shared his thoughts. Sharp, methodical bangs. Echoing through the cavern over the murmurs and shouts of the researchers and security personnel. Clearly something large was slamming into the door intermittently, though nary a soul was anywhere close to the doors in question, let alone someone large enough to making such a racket.

"If you are finished? You are here to work, not sight see." Griphook snapped their minds back to the present, the two turning their gaze down to him as he scowled in irritation. Following him as he almost sprinted along.

Their quick, rushed steps taking them closer to the tall goblin awaiting them at the final barrier set up before the colossal doors. Tall for a goblin was marked at the higher end of four feet, she stood upright at five-foot-five. Not tall by any stretch of the imagination against the humans milling about her, grovelling and shuffling, but the intimidating stature and clear sense of authority almost made her out as a million miles tall.

Had it not been for her hooked nose, sclera-less eyes, sharp black nails and equally sharp fangs, one could mistake the soft lipped, armoured female for a human. The Crown Princess and chief heir to the throne Vanguard standing tall with a double-bladed axe lazily rested on her shoulder as if it weighed nothing. Bosom bound and trapped beneath an intricately patterned chest plate that curved around her body like a steal corset atop a layer of chainmail and thick, powerful legs trapped within equally heavy plate armour and chainmail and coal black hair held in a tight bun.

"Griphook, I expected you five minutes ago." Vanguard spoke in a soft, feminine baritone that gripped the trio with its quiet authority.  
"I humbly request your forgiveness and thank you for your patience, you Highness."

Her nose turned up to his grovelling,

"When did you become so painfully pathetic?" She spat before raising a hand to silence any reply he had quickly thought up, instead directing her attention to the humans, "I greet you curse breakers, and I expect prompt results and efficient work."

They offered their understanding and were lead along by her as she jerked her head to follow and strode along, Griphook stayed behind. Heading towards the resounding knocking, each step not only making the sound louder and louder in their ears but also an invisible weight settling on their shoulders more and more the closer they came to the doors,

"Your goal is simple, curse breakers. We want those doors open." Vanguard was curt in her speech, walking as if ignorant to the growing noise and pressure, "The Goblin Empire and the ICW have secured access to the area and they licensed the use of you Gringotts staff to ensure this is done promptly."

"Then your highness, is there a timetable we are going to be working to?" Togame asked slowly, Bill nodding along a similar thought,

"We can only guarantee thirty days of interrupted access to the site, Lescatie and Lumaria have already declared their interest and we have already had an altercation with an Elven squad." Came Griphook, having sidled up alongside them as they walked,

"So, although we may legally have a month to hollow this place out, we are already on borrowed time." Bill grimly summarised, surprised at a chuckle rolling up the throat of the princess walking ahead of him,

"A simple observation but many in the banks employ would not have made it until much later, I am expecting a lot from you young Master Weasley." She turned and offered a smirk of sadistic satisfaction over her armoured shoulder that could only be described as the stuff of nightmares, Bill gulped,

"I-I will endeavour not to disappoint." He was able to respond after a sizeable pause and was released from the princess's gaze as she turned herself back to where they were going. The now quartet having arrived at their destination, the doorway.

The knocking was nigh deafening as they arrived at the doors, with the invisible pressure of the magic beyond them almost crushing them as they stood before them.

"Wh-What is that?" Bill choked out uncomfortably, quiet gaze turned to him before he was given a response,  
"When something or someone is appropriately powerful, if their magic is not contained it will permeate the air around them."

"You usually see it in more powerful wizards and witches, when emotions run high the control, either subconscious or conscious, can quickly vanish allowing their magic to roll through unobstructed." Vanguard finished Togame's thought, neither of them showing signs of the clear discomfort

From the table, Bill took a rune encrusted hammer and chisel whilst Togame's hand carefully pulled off a large piece of black chalk, humming audibly in her grasp as they turned back to the colossal doors,

"I will return within the hour to check on your progress." She strode away and left them to their work.

{NEXT}

Seconds to minutes, minutes became an hour; the duo flowed around one another in a dance reminiscent to worker bees, working away at the doors with quiet whispers shouts that Vanguard could clearly perceive as panic.

"What is the issue?" Vanguard impatiently asked her question, glaring over and down at the kneeling pair as they continued to mutter panicked between each other and eventually turned to the Princess of the Goblins,

"It is hard to explain, but it would appear that someone within the structure is already working on dismantling the seals." Bill explained without looking away from the door, carefully examining several of the chalked on runic displays Togame had sketched upon its surface before the Princess had arrived,

"Someone?" Doubt clear in her tone,  
"The spell work is too precise, too efficient to be any object that we have ever discovered." Togame replied, worriedly glancing to them where the knocks have become far louder and aggressive. The violent slamming into the heavy wood having drawn the attention of the dozens of the other personnel, equally apprehensive, equally fearful.

"Someone is clearly trying to get out, your highness." Bill continued worriedly, looking over with clear apprehension in his hazel eyes, "Are you certain we should be helping-"

The light was snuffed out.

It was instant, the lights of the lanterns simultaneously disappeared in the blink of an eye. Screams and starts of surprise assaulted their ears

"What the hell?" Bill's shout,  
"What is happening?!" Vanguard's roar for answers,

"Can you hear that?" Togame's quiet question after some of the panic was alleviated. Beams of light cutting through the shadow as people were quick to cast ' _Lumos'_.

They spent several minutes trying to ascertain what Togame had drawn attention to, straining their ears to find out what she was drawing attention to. But they heard nothing, not even the talks or even the breathing of the personnel behind them, the cavern was all but silent.

"The knocking has… stopped?" Bill murmured out in slow realisation.

Then, in the darkness and the silence, a whispered moan echoed off of the walls in unrestrained ecstasy,

"Ahh, finally!"

The doors violently burst outwards, slamming against the walls they were contained within with a bang like cannon fire or thunder, showering dust and small stones onto the floor from the now cracked walls that contained them.

Cascading from within came a colossal magical power that throttled many of the wizards and witches who had stationed themselves on the other side. Alongside the magical energy that had injected itself into the area around them came streams and streams of thick sand out on to the unprepared masses. Togame, Bill and even Vanguard were battered by the colossal tidal wave of sand were struck first, breath punched from them immediately upon the collision as they were flung from their feet and dragged away from the doorway.

Black spots appeared on the edges of Bill's vision as he was battered by the vicious magic and the weight of the sand, no breaths being taken no matter how harshly he inhaled. The last sensation that Bill felt upon falling into unconsciousness was the feeling of a powerful arm linking around his waist, a familiar heat across his body and words that he was not quite sure he heard correctly through the deprivation of oxygen,

"Finally, the Goddess has made her move." Her voice a sultry feminine voice that faded as she moved away and Bill moved out of consciousness, "It seems I must go and fight for my sweetheart…"

.

* * *

.

"Cheers!" A trio of boisterous cheers followed by a clink of three bottles of toffee brown liquid, a third held in the shaking, troubled hands of a fourth as she sat on the bed opposite her friends. Brows furrowing in concern as their lips settled around the necks of the bottles and they took deep drinks of the aforementioned Butterbeer.

"C'mon Hermione!" Ron whined, turning from Delphini and Harry to survey his other friend sat opposite, "This stuff is great."

"We are far too young to be drinking alcohol." Hermione murmured as she tightly grasped the glass,

"I think beer is just part of the name, Mione. Rather than there being actual beer in it." Harry tried placating

"Well, for some reason, wizards don't put

"Erm, why would you need that?" Delphi asked curiously, Ron seemingly sharing the girl's confusion from his place leaning against the foot of the bed before she spoke again, "If it were unsafe the Ministry wouldn't let you sell it."

"I'm still not drinking it."

'Boos!' Hit Hermione from Delphini and Ron whilst Harry shook his head, Hermione's shoulders slumped somewhat, and she felt a cold, slimy feeling in her stomach. Missing the concern that flashed over Harry's face at her expression and quickly piped up,

"Stop it you two, Hermione's not finding it funny." Harry sighed out and their laughter and noise ended quickly at looking at her. Ron and Delphi suddenly looking sheepish whilst Hermione flushed in embarrassment,

"S-Sorry, don't mean to be a mood killer. I just…"

"It's fine." Harry responded to Hermione warmly and immediately,  
"Yeah, we're not going to upset you over something as dumb as Butterbeer." Ron smiled, a smile that broadened as a small smile bloomed on her face, "You've got your whole life to try it."

She nodded, grins were fuelled all around,

"Then again, we can't really have a group toast if one of us doesn't have a drink." Deplhini hummed as her friends moved about a bit on the bed with her, "You got anything else in here lads?"

"I've got some pumpkin juice in my trun… Ron, what are you even doing in my trunk?" Harry and the girls turning to Ron in question as he was leaning over the headboard of his bed, hanging over Harry's already opened trunk where the quartet had gotten the Butterbeer from,

"Y-You're the one who keeps leaving your underwear lying around." Ron snapped back, a smirk growing on his face as he dropped a pair of his boxers back into his trunk before sitting back up and crossing his arms, "I'm just sick of seeing it around, you know?"

"Like hell I do, don't be a filthy liar, Weasley." Harry glared, playful yet insulted,

"Aww, it's ok Harry. We still love you, even if you're a tramp." Delphi cooed with clasped hands and a sweet, condescending tone. Harry swatted her arm and she dissolved into giggles. He hit her again with a scowl and Ron and Hermione joined in (all missing the dying suns glint caught on glass as a small potions vial disappeared back into the pocket of Ron's robes).

"Now, can we get back to the celebration then?" Ron grinned, and Harry rolled his eyes with a smirk before scooting past him, rifling through his own stuff and withdrawing a small carton of pumpkin juice (kept cool by the glowing cooling rune on its side) and traded it with a grateful Hermione,

"So… cheers then?" Harry asked curiously,

"Yeah, congrats Ron on figuring out the manuscripts." Delphi matched Harry's raised drink with a half-smile to her red-head friend, "Genuinely didn't think you had it in you."

Ron scowled briefly before smirking and turning his drink to them,

"Yes, congratulations Ron." Hermione smiled warmly and the four declared cheers once more and spent a good few hours chatting away and enjoying themselves in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory as the sun set on the last day of the school week before Neville, Dean and Seamus returned and the girls decided to return to their own dorms for the night.

Left alone, the boys decided to get changed and continued a conversation on the upcoming Quidditch match against Ravenclaw,

"Chang's a good Seeker, but you're better." Ron spoke over his shoulder as he ruffled through parchment strewn on his bed with a tired eye,  
"I mean… I dunno. Cho's a great seeker and Davies is a great Chaser and a good captain. They're a good team." Harry responded as he chucked his clothes in with the rest in a dirty clothes bin and sighed, his back clicking and cracking as he stretched out tension in his spine,

"You done showing off over there." Seamus called from across the room to his shirtless dorm mate, smirking when he received a middle finger from the boy who didn't even turn around.

"Bloody hell, Harry! Is that cause of Wood?" Ron, having turned to see the issue and noting his topless best friend, Harry's cheeks dusted in pink as he looked down at his lithe muscular figure. The light of the candles and lanterns in the dorm room casting shadows across his defined figure,

"I mean I guess so, Ollie's pretty clear about us being in shape whilst off a broom." Harry all but murmured as he reached for a pyjama shirt and was quick to shrug it on, "It's nothing."

"I wouldn't say so." Ron murmured in an almost irritated tone, as he himself got changed. Though he paused after folding his clothes from the day and stared thoughtfully down at his armful,

"What's up?" Harry asked worriedly after dumping his dirty clothes, still concerned when Ron shook his head and seemed to come back to reality,

"Erm, nothing mate."  
"You sure?"  
"Yeah."

Lights went out and the boys settled into bed a little while later, conversations about the week and the quick bit of homework they had done quickly falling into the background as they settled into sleep.

Harry nearly clocked Ron in the jaw when his hand settled on his shoulder,

"Bloody hell!" Ron quietly hissed as he jumped back from the surprised swat of Harry's hand, almost glaring down accusingly at his drowsy best friend who was blinking his way back to wakefulness,

"Wh-What's up?" Harry's words slurred together as he rubbed his eyes and sat up,

"I need to talk with you." Ron stated, uncharacteristic seriousness and perceived vulnerability somewhat lost on Harry as he threw his legs over his bed and sat up on the edge,

"Yeah?" Harry asked in a slow tired drawl, raising an eyebrow when Ron shook his head and didn't immediately answer. He peered all about him before shaking his head and jerking his hand to the door to the dorm,

"Just out there for a second, I promise."

Harry groaned audibly, and he slid onto his feet and softly padded along after Ron, both careful not to wake up the other three as they stepped out.

Harry slipped out ahead of Ron and his bare feet were viciously attacked by the icy cold of the stairs, Harry turned his head in quiet surprise when he was halfway down the stairs and Ron was not following. Thus, they clearly weren't making to have a conversation talk in the Common Room,

"What's up then, Ron?" Harry sighed as he turned around and walked back up to him,

"I have a favour to ask." Ron stated in a gruff, clearly bashful as he rubbed away at his arm,  
"And it couldn't wait until morning." Harry crossed his arms, mostly due to the evenings cold however as he rubbed warmth into them,  
"I wanted to ask you before you went to work." Ron sheepishly spoke after a clear pause in embarrassment in the face of his best friend's-tired irritation, "I, erm. I thought you could talk to Ollivander whilst you're out tomorrow?"

"I mean, I'm not even working at Ollivander's tomorrow but whatever." He responded, his eyes narrowed a bit before he rubbed and blinked tiredness away, "What do you need?"  
For the first time, Harry noted the thick sheets of parchment and papyrus that Ron had pinned under his underarm by his chest. He found his attention drawn more clearly to it as Ron slipped it from where he was holding and flipped through the bound pages to the one he desired.

"Here." He handed it over as Harry drew closer, "I need ingredients for the philosophers stone."  
"I doubt that Ollivander will just part with wand materials, especially if it's just for some second years benefits instead of his own."

If Ron saw the dark look on Harry's face or the sour tone in which he delivered his words he did not mention it, instead he just shook his head and sighed,

"That's not what I want, I just was wondering if he'd know where to get some of these materials." Ron gestured to the list of materials Harry's eyes carefully surveyed, brushing up his glasses curiously,

"Wait. Dragon ulcers? Bicorn hoof shavings? Ron… are you sure this is even right?" Harry looked up in almost worry, his mind whirring in concern, especially as with how the understanding (and something akin to guilt) filtered onto his face as if he were waiting for Harry to mention it,

"Look, I know-"  
"Ron, I'm not an expert but just because they come from a magical being doesn't mean they have… value as materials for something like this." Harry struggled for his words and for how to say it as kindly as he could, worried at his friends almost angry expression,

"Look. I don't need you to question me, Harry." Ron snapped quickly but tempered his temper in the face of Harry's lack of amusement at his tone, "I-I just need you to help me with this."

Harry held his gaze for a time, flicking from his friend to the manuscript. Taking in the seemingly bogus ingredient list for the fabled philosophers stone and the clear vulnerability and desperation. He almost chomped off his tongue in his efforts to bite back his own comments on the situation, able to fully respond to his friend after a tired, explosive sigh,

"I'll pop in to the shop after work tomorrow and the Apothecary too if it's still open." He acquised to the bright smile of the redhead, his wand (stuffed into the pocket of his bottoms) swept over the list with a quiet incantation of ' _Replica_ ' and a copy of the page was made. Harry passed the manuscript back to Ron without so much as a word and stepped back into the dormitory,

"Night Harry."

The two entered the room separately, Ron entering the dorm and getting into bed a long time after Harry settled under his duvet. Harry listened with surprisingly sensitive ears until the breathing of his best friend slowed and softened as he fell into slumber. Only falling into it himself after a long time of staring up at the dark ceiling with a vacant gaze.

"Yeah, goodnight."

.

* * *

.

Mokunaii the 11th stepped out into the shadows, quietly stunned at the fact that she was actually walking out to her freedom many centuries after her time. Remembering it as if it was yesterday, the day she stepped behind these walls and accepted her own mortality, the end of it more specifically. The prayers she had uttered, the forgiveness she had begged for, the tears she had shed, the warmth that had left her as she fell into deaths embrace.

Waking up undead was not so much of an incredible surprise, it meant her lady had use of her once again after all. A clear and present danger to something she held dear, something she was to retrieve at all costs. Her lady had sounded so much weaker and more distant than all those years ago. Gone was she who could make a man fall to madness with a gesture of the hand or bat of an eyelid, she had changed.

But she still adored her, the reverence Mokunaii held for the goddess she served paled not in the face of the degradation she suffered from. Man had abandoned their masters, an explanation Mokunaii accepted at her silent inquiry as to her mistresses state, the Gods thus abandoned them in turn. Gone were the days of grandiose displays of power, of sacrifices and festivals. The Gods were part of the 'Old Ways', and the 'Old Ways' were to be avoided.

She swallowed bile, humanity making her feel sick. Despite her initial trepidation at her condition as a 'monster', she could not thank her lady enough for separating her from the heathens that called themselves humanity.

Her legs were no longer unsteady as she walked, the primordial power of her lady coursing through her empty veins in a mimicry of her life blood. The raw, unadulterated power of her lady pulsing through her veins to give each step confidence and purpose. She reeked power and oozed the confidence required to wield it, she was a herald of a Goddess, nothing of this puny world could come close to hindering her mission.

She shivered in the cold, longing for the light and warmth of the sun far above, the dark skin of her arms and legs loosely and incredibly sparingly wrapped in pristine white bandages, displaying copious amounts of skin, rather uncharacteristically (she was a mummy after all). Her short small dress, garb casual and meant for breathing in the harsh desert heat, was not appropriate for the subdued cold of the cave. She stepped out onto the sand drowned stoned in delicate steps, black sandaled feet leaving barely an indent as she ghosted across the floor, Mokunaii aware that her slim form now weighed so little it was laughable, her endlessly long legs making short graceful work of the distance from her doorway to the weak, distant beam of sunlight.

With a flick of her hand, she threw her immaculate raven locks over her shoulder and down her back. Surveying her dark surroundings with an imperious gaze, appreciative of both her newfound freedom and the flood of sand that buried the area outside of her ancient home and eventual burial ground. She sighed in the cold air before turning her gaze to the shadowed contraption that her lady had informed her would be a possible way out, which is when she finally payed the appropriate attention to the other occupant of the room. The black silhouette in the way of her goal.

"Well, for an early follower of the Goddess, you are not at all what I was expecting." The tone was playful and cheery, "Welcome to the twentieth century, Miss Mummy."  
"I will take your words as a compliment and appreciate them as such." Mokunaii's voice was low, though they held a similarly playful and seductive quality as they were spoken, caramel lips lifting in a small half smile, "It is a surprise to see how beings have changed in this time. It is a pleasure to meet you, Succubus."

A clear crisp clap saw light flood the blackened surroundings, an orb of light shining white down upon the underground with the intensity of a mini-star. Illuminating to whoever could have seen that the formerly full cathedral sized area had only two occupants. The black dress wearing mummy in the doorway of the castle and the white haired, white winged succubus. Her voluptuous form covered only by a long black coat (buttoned just above her naval so as to display her glorious cleavage and soft skin whilst maintaining some form of dignity by covering her rosy red nipples from view). Both her jacket, the pitch-black stiletto's and the matching stockings of the ensemble were adorned carefully with silver love hearts on joints and other areas.

In a gesture parodying Mokunaii's own, the aforementioned succubus flicked her snow-white hair over her shoulder as she surveyed the mummy with curious red eyes, both aware yet not commenting on the wary tension of the others muscles under the guises of their relaxed stances. Her diamond pointed tail ghosted across the sandy ground as her wings flexed reflexively at her waist, a hand moved up to dark black horns that curled upwards shortly from either side of the top of her head. Carefully caressing one of the dark articles as she stared Mokunaii down, the mummy carefully running an errant end to one of her bandages through seemingly uncaring fingers.

"I assume you are aware as to why I was awakened." A statement, Mokunaii arching an eyebrow questioningly though as she looked over at the amused one before her, "I was made aware that one or more succubi and their forces may move to hinder me. May I know who it is I am facing?"  
"I am the fourth princess of the Demon Realm, the exerciser of my queen mothers will and desires. Her highness Druella."

Mokunaii made the effort to curtsey.

"I am not sure if you are aware, but the Goddess you serve has offered her subservience to my queen. Thus she finds herself under the rule of her majesty and her line." Druella spoke without a hint of playfulness or flippancy, the deathly serious tone shattering both her own façade of smug cheer as well as Mokunaii's own, "I order you to cease your actions, I announce to you now a message to send along to your lady: Harry Potter is off limits."

"My Goddess does not, and would never, bow her head to a lowly demon. Let alone the upstart child of one." Mokunaii's words were delivered with an almost aggressive growl from the back of her throat, amber eyes burning with orange fire as she spoke again, "Whatever ownership you believe you have over the child is irrelevant. Standing against the will of the divine is blasphemy. I will not tolerate such arrogance."

They struck.

* * *

.

 **Boop. What will happen next? Will Druella be victorious? Or will the mysterious Mokunaii steal the day? Find out next time for another exciting instalment of…**

 **Right, so its 5am. I think I've got all the spellings and grammar errors but if I've missed anything feel free to roast me and/or bring it to my attention. Once again, thanks BadLuckBunny and to everyone else for reading this all to the end and see you all next time x**

 **Bye.**


	16. Chapter 16

**VentXekart: In regards to Mokunaii, I will allow you to assume what you want** **And yes, my intention is to have individual arcs for all of our main characters (the four as well as the main villains) and have some semi-detailed plans for all involved.**

 **DRAGONDAVE45: Thanks again for reading along, I'm very much looking forward to the events to come regarding Francisca and the King.**

 **commandosquirrel: Yup, what's Druella gonna do? She's fighting Mokunaii quite literally in her element!**

 **Aww yeah!**

* * *

 **.**

A Wizards Life in Magical Academia:

Chapter 16

In the eyes of Hermione Granger and Delphini Rowle, the haunted second floor bathroom of Hogwarts School was indubitably the best place for girls like them to use the loo outside of the less public toilets present in their respective House dorms. Thanks to the rooms semi-permanent resident, most steered clear of the room (and her) on principle, but Delphi and Hermione (despite the girls… eccentricities) Myrtle was pleasant company.

"And then I spilled pumpkin juice all up Tom's robes." Myrtle laughed with a soft, bluish blush to her ethereal cheeks, "The most handsome and charming boy on the planet and I doused him AND his potions homework!"

"In front of everyone in the Grand Hall? That's tragic!" Delphi snorted out her response through chortles whilst Hermione hid her smirks and giggles behind the book she had buried her nose in,

"With all the foreign delegates and students present." She buried her head in her hands and grinned in mortification at the decade old tale she had relayed to her new friends. Delphi munched on a sandwich she had swiped from the Great Hall and sat on one of the various sinks encircling the semi-column that was the center piece of the second-floor bathroom. By her feet was Hermione, sandwiched between the two girls bookbags as she flicked through her Charms textbook without even a split second spent looking away, though she was still quite the active participant in the trio's conversation,

"I'm surprised they even held a ball for something so innocuous." Hermione spoke aloud with a soft shake of the head, silently moving her lips to test the Sticking Charm's incantation on her tongue, "The war wouldn't end for years to come and his capture doesn't really seem like cause for such a grand, international celebration."

"In all fairness, Hermione. The world thought the war was over back then, MACUSA were the first to even come close to capturing Grindlewald." Delphini shrugged, leaning back on the spotty mirror above bleached white porcelain sink as she sighed in thought, "Hindsight makes the celebration of his arrest a bit premature."

"I guess, seeing as he wasn't dead for another 3 years." The bookworm murmured with a nod, murmuring 'Epoximise' in a low, distracted whisper,

"It's a shame Grindlewald died after I did." Myrtle mused, rubbing her chin and running quick hands through her ponytails, "I would have loved to have gone to Transfiguration AFTER Professor Dumbledore had become the most powerful wizard on the planet."

Hermione sighed wistfully,

"I would have loved to have learned from Professor Dumbledore."

"Professor McGonagall not good enough for you?" Delphi replied with a mischievous smirk that earned her a sharp blow to the shoulder that only deepened her expression,

"You know what Delphini-" Hermione began with a matching amused grin before she was interrupted by a feminine moan of disgust that sliced through the quiet air of the bathroom.

"EUGH! Heads up ladies. That weird girl is coming again." She rolled her eyes as she withdrew herself from the left most wall where she had evidently been looking out into the corridor,

"What do you mean 'weird girl'?" Hermione asked suspiciously, looking up at her for the first time in a while with her grin melting away to a curious expression as she alternated between looking over at the ghost floating by the ceiling and to the doorway, in anticipation of an approaching student.

"Absolute freak she is." Myrtle huffed in vehement disgust, she jabbed a thumb to a sink on the left of the one Delphi had made her seat, "Scurries in here at any random time, day or night, and makes really weird noises at the sink over there."

The two were confused whilst Myrtle sighed in defeat, an almost ominous feeling permeating their previously amicable and calm atmosphere as their ears began to pick up the quickly approaching footsteps of a running individual,

"I'd hide or leave if I were you, she got a bit snippy last time she found out she was being observed." Myrtle huffed in annoyance after her suggestion and jerked her head and thumb to a blackened patch on the ceiling over the ghost girls shoulder missing tiles, stones and mortar, "Quick as you can girls, she's pretty quick with a wand for a girl so tiny."

Hermione and Delphi shared a worried look as the footsteps grew louder and they registered the blackened, scorched stain that stood out jarringly against the bright colours of the bathroom. They stiffened in surprise as Myrtle unleashed a shrill, long moan worthy of a spectre before she looped up in the air and swan dived into a toilet bowl with a vicious splash.

"L-Let's go." Hermione snagged Delphi's wrist, scooped up there bags in one sharp movement and bolted towards the nearest cubicle, shoving her friend inside. Scurrying in after her and gently pushing the door closed behind her, despite her hammering heart and shaking hands as footsteps made their way to the bathroom door,

"Hurry up!" Delphi snapped in a quiet hiss,

"Hush, you'll draw attention to us!" Hermione responded with an equally agitated whisper, "Stand on the toilet bowl, we need to hide our feet. Epoximise!"

A hopeful whisper of the Sticking Charm (quietly cast from the tip of Hermione's wand) stuck the door shut before she quickly backed away and softly hopped up onto the porcelain throne alongside her silver haired friend. The two tottering and shifting to stay balanced upon it together as a shadow passed under the small gap between the door and the floor. The 'weird girl' entering the bathroom with a slowing pace and loud, visibly panicked gasps.

Delphi hooked an arm around Hermione's waist and held her breath harshly. Consciously working on breathing as little and quiet as she could muster, hoping to avoid discovery and glean some information from the distressed, angry words that the girl was spitting (seemingly to herself) as she walked to the far corner of the room (away from them).

Delphi and Hermione jumped and barely choked back yelps of surprise as a cubicle door off to their right was slammed open with a violent BANG and a loud splash hit their ears, Delphi's guess being that something had been hurled into the toilet bowl after she had slammed the door open.

"I'm done with you!" Came a voice, obviously the girl. An unspoken thought was shared between the two inadvertent eavesdroppers as they did not quite recognise the voice but felt an irritating shred of nostalgic familiarity after she spoke.

Their musings were cut by the sound of a flushing toilet, loud in the terrified silence that was quickly followed by hurried footsteps as the girl had turned to seemingly make a hasty exit.

Delphi surprised Hermione as she slipped down from their perch and moved to the cubicle door, missing or ignoring the questioning/disbelieving look that overtook her friends face.

"Finite Incantatum." Delphi whispered softly as her wand wafted over door and cancelled her friends previous spell, the shadow passing over their cubicle again and the girl passed by once more. Her pale hand settled on the door and carefully began to ease it open, wincing at the quiet squeak of ill-maintained hinges that she hoped was covered by the loud flush of the nearby toilet. Hermione's hand snapped forward and grabbed Delphi's forearm, the girl turning in moderate surprise to survey the determined yet uneasy expression of her friend (her wand already in hand and gripped in a white shaking grip),

"Be careful." Was Hermione's empathetic hiss, worriedly looking between her and the slowly opening door as the two inched forward and out of their hiding place. Movement masked by the gurgling flush of toilet and heavy, rapidly retreating footfall.

Delphini had not been quick enough in her quiet exit of the toilet cubicle to catch a definitive look at who had entered and left, but she did catch a glimpse of swirling black robes and vibrant red hair as she swept around the stalls and out of the bathroom. She briefly contemplated moving to follow her and see if she could get a better look (by peaking her head around the bathroom doorway), but a quick reminder of what she had allegedly done to the ceiling behind her gave her pause. Letting the girl escape, her footsteps drawing further and further away.

"That was close." Hermione sighed from behind her, the hand that wasn't holding her wand in a loose grip at her waist hovered over her heart (that likely hammered in her chest just as violently Delphi's did).

"Ooooh! That it was!"

The two turned to the cubicle they had just vacated, dark haired head of Myrtle popping out through the toilet seat with a relieved expression, met by dual unimpressed expressions.

"Why were YOU hiding?" Delphi asked in cross armed aggravation, glaring as the ghost floated up through the white toilet before sitting crossed legged upon it, "It's not like you could have been hurt."

"Not hurt, per say. But that little girl seems to have access to something that could give me some trouble." Myrtle's jovial and flippant tone that accentuates all of her words was absent as her expression turned distant. Hollow and empty, the two girls receiving the distinct expression that Myrtle wasn't quite with them right then and there,

"Myrtle, you okay?" Delphi tried to regain her attention, concerned at the girl's heavy stare into nothingness as Hermione drifted away. Leaving the Slytherin girl to wave a hand in front of the girls face as she moved to the vacated toilet cubicle in the far-right corner (the one that the 'weird girl' had exited). She turned up her nose as her black shoes and the hem of her robes entered the quick flood of water from the gurgling and overflowing toilet that continued to hum and flush as it was clearly blocked from vacating itself,

"Delphi!" She called over her shoulder and did not turn until the footsteps stopped behind her,

"What is that?" She spoke up in confusion, leaning over and past Hermione to look into the toilet bowl itself. Both of them finding the pipe firmly blocked shut by a black, leather bound book, rolled up like a newspaper, "A… book? What IS that? A diary?"

"Whatever it is, she apparently came in here to flush it." Hermione hummed as Delphi's wand moved and levitated it out of the water and dropped it into her hands, shaking off the water. Hermione looked over unimpressed, "Really?"

Ignoring her, Delphi flipped through the black, leather bound book with a raised brow that belied further and further disbelief,

"It's blank." She muttered, flicking between more and more wet, empty pages with mounting confusion, "Why make such a fuss about something so little?"

"Maybe there's more to it?"

"Maybe." Delphi mused as she kept looking over the empty pages again and again before snapping it shut with a sigh, "Who knows…"

"The real question though isn't why she was throwing away a blank book, it's who is she? And what is she doing in here?" Delphi continued her musings with a narrowed, thoughtful look into the air as she thought away,

"Myrtle?" Hermione turned to the ghost from Delphi, the girl floating out from the cubicle they had left her in with a curious, expectant expression, "You said that that girl had access to something that could cause you trouble, right?"

"Yup." Myrtle popped the 'p' in her response as she floated over to them with her arms folded behind her back, a complete 180 from her previous refusal to speak.

"What do you mean though, you're a ghost. Can she exorcise you or something?" Delphi asked, Hermione nodding along in support of the girl's inquiry,

"Don't think so, she is only a firstie after all." Myrtle's lips lifted somewhat in a smile as she shook her head, the two girls stunned that they had hidden in terror from some first year, "Nah, she just has access to the thing that killed me. And although it can't kill me again, I saw what it did to Sir Nicholas."

Hearts skipped a beat as Myrtle visibly shuddered, the petrified visage of the Gryffindor ghost Nearly Headless Nick quickly rushing through their mind as their minds worked quickly to formulate what on earth that information meant,

"Wait, that girl has access to a thing that killed you?" Delphi asked slowly,

"And that same thing petrified Nearly Headless Nick?" Hermione matched her careful, inquisitive tone, both nodding in unison at Myrtle's delighted admission.

"Yes, to both." Myrtle trilled cheerfully, smiling gleefully with teeth that glittered in the face of the girls dawning horror, "You two little ladies are just so clever!"

"So that means, whoever it was that just left here…" Delphi gasped out, "they have control of the monster that's petrifying the students."

"B-But that means… that means that?" Hermione though allowed, hand covering her mouth as her brown eyes widened to horrified saucers, "Of course! Whoever it was who was just in here… was the heir of Slytherin!"

.

* * *

.

Sand billowed and slammed about under vicious explosive force. Invisible concussive force thrown from pale, taloned hands from a vantage point in the air. Leathery white wings kicking up further dust and sediment as one adversary battered her fleeing opponent.

The very sand moved under the feet of Mokunaii as she dodged and weaved under the brutal assault of the airborne succubus Druella. Mokunaii carried left right, forward and back by the very force of her will and naught else. Tentacles and probes of sand, lunging from the heavy blanket of dark sand that drowned the stony floor with jerks of the head and hands, leading Druella to bob and weave through the air just as desperately as she had to.

Mokunaii spit out a vicious, angry hiss and snapped her hand forward, aimed towards the momentarily distracted adversary of hers who had just barely avoided a lance of sand. Druella's crimson eyes snapped to what had been hurled her way with nary a millisecond to respond, lunging back quick enough to avoid being pierced through the chest (as was Mokunaii's projectiles intention) but it still sheared easily through the dark coat and pail skin of Druella's arms, leaving aggravated bloody gashes in its wake.

Beyond her, the wall exploded, showering stone, shaking the stalactites and sending waves of sand flying from the aggressive force of the explosion as a single one of the slightly weathered bandages that wrapped loosely around Mokunaii's arms made a colossal collision with the stony surface, stretching that far even though it seemed that there was still the same amount of bandage still wrapped loosely around her blemishless arms.

This revelation was quickly discarded in favour of Druella's fight or flight instincts, a second bandage flying her way whilst a gigantic hand of sand rushed up from beneath her to crush the succubus between its grainy fingers. She dropped through the gaps in its giant fingers and evaded another attempted strike from the initial bandage (that looped its way around the sandy limb for a second shot at assaulting her) and flitting past the sands feeble attempts to drag her from the air.

White bandages (yellowed somewhat in age in areas) rigid like steel as they sliced through the air. Curving, arcing and turning with brutal speed and efficiency in their path towards their elusive adversary. Heedless of the laws of physics as they descended on Druella under the quick flicks and sharp gestures of Mokunaii's hands. Arching through the air with incredible speed and intensity that Druella could feel as she evaded, the burn of pain on her arms and the vicious breeze of displaced air as she slipped away from the bandages whilst still aware of grasping and harsh sands that coiled at Mokunaii's command.

Primal power roiled within Mokunaii, itching to be unleashed. To destroy. To obliterate. It called and moaned to Mokunaii from under her skin as she held it restrained and continued to fly at Druella,

' _She's not attacking?'_ Mokunaii questioned internally as she continued to punch and slash with her hands and Druella continued to flee with no particular difficulty. Possibly, from the outside, it would seem that Mokunaii was pressing the succubus into a desperate defense in which she had no ability to respond. But Mokunaii knew far better, she had hit her once with a surprise attack (an attack she had evidently been able to see and respond to) and had yet to hit her again, _'She hasn't an ounce of power since we began. Is she trying to wait me out?'_

Mokunaii shook her head as she aggressively snapped her hands about at Druella as her patience all but vanished. Her teeth ground together, her jaw aching in her rage as she dragged her wrists back (her bandages flying back to her to return to covering her caramel skin) before she clapped her hands together with an angry clap that echoed off of the dark stone walls and ceiling,

"Vanish, heathen." Mokunaii's snarl was her only warning.

Her hands slammed out, palms bared to the hovering princess of the succubi who prepared herself for an assault.

Telekinetic force accumulated in the air before the mummy, so dense and powerful that the ripples and pulses were visible to the naked eye. Roiling through the air aggressively before Druella's impatient eyes as her enemy obviously drew power to throw a spell.

Druella lunged, hoping to defeat Mokunaii before she could complete her spell and cause her any more damage or hastle than she already had.

She failed.

The wall copied her and flew at her, sand jumping up at Druella simultaneous as she was smacked through the air. The princess slamming her hands up and hissing a shielding spell into existence that halted her pushback whilst she was doused in sand. The little light that the two had battled in was immediately gone as her spherical shield was consumed in loose earth.

Druella snarled and snapped taloned hands out to the side almost as soon as the light vanished. Glaring about in the inky darkness beyond her shield and failing to see Mokunaii with harsh red eyes.

A finger snap echoed in the cave and a ball of light appeared once again by the ceiling and subsequently she found that Mokunaii was gone as soon as she looked again. No sense (physical or non-physical) could find her anywhere near where they'd battled. Not underground, not skulking around on the surface with the fretting wizards, witches and goblins milling about like panicked ants at the frayed ends of her senses, not anywhere that the 4th Princess of one of the most powerful beings in existence could perceive.

And thus, as she stared around at the empty, silent cavern, Druella's mind quickly comprehended what had occurred,

"Shit." She snarled through gritted teeth, following Mokunaii's example and vanishing herself…

.

* * *

.

The break room of Fortescue's was long and thin, a few long paces from wall to wall constituting the entirety of the rooms width whilst the length far exceeded it. It was a dull room, dark greens and greys being the choice for the floors, walls and ceiling.

 _ **Dearest Harry James Potter,**_

 _ **I apologise in advance for my boldness and impertinence but I find myself compelled.**_

 _ **My name is Francisca Mistel Lescatie, I appreciate that my name may be foreign to you and that it may be disconcerting for a complete stranger to address you with such familiarity. Again, I apologise.**_

 _ **I am not sure if you are aware, but I hale from the nation state of Lescatie, a kingdom distant from yours and likely absent from any and all of your history books. And as disconcerting as it may be but you may not know who I am, but I know of you. Even this far, the legend that is the "Boy-Who-Lived" reached our ears.**_

Harry, despite his mild curiosity and confusion, still feeling open to the letters contents despite being dubious of the sender and their reasoning behind writing to him, couldn't help but scowl violently at reading those words. A large portion of his mind content to crumple the odd, out of the blue letter that had almost landed in his cereal and forget about it all together.

But a quick curious glance at the next few sentence lead to the massacre of that particular train of thought as he was almost frozen solid in his seat with his heart beating in his ears.

 _ **Forgive me for not believing most of it.**_

 _ **Although it is an indubitably objective fact that you survived the unstoppable Killing Curse all those years ago, the tall tales of you slaying dragons at four and gallivanting around with a harem of Veela are somehow harder pills to swallow. Ironic I know.**_

 _ **Nor do I believe you should be revered as a God and have your very existence celebrated with every breath when the reason you are so famous is because of the day where you were brutally orphaned. I believe wizards and witches are mind numbingly insensitive in that regard when thinking of you, whispering, pointing and cheering as they constantly remind you of the death of your parents.**_

 _ **Then again, I know naught of you and may just be alienating you with my words. But I feel that if I am unable to express my feelings and thoughts to you then it is impossible for us to become friends. A foundation of trust and honesty is essential in any relationship, is it not?**_

An employee slammed into the break room with loud clacks of pointy shoes. Not cutting a particularly impressive figure in the white blouse and brown apron and skirt of her uniform but still holding herself with a definitively confident and 'feminine' poise as she rushed into the room on long slim (white stocking clad) legs,

"Hey Harry, how are ya?" the bubbly aqua haired witch Stephanie Brownstein called as she slipped into the break room and made a beeline to the female toilet behind him, her pink lips pursing at his lack of response or reaction as he stared pale and wide eyed at the parchment clutched in his white shaking fingers. The kid was almost sickeningly polite and cordial to his coworkers (she remembered) so such a reaction made her momentarily forget her desperate need to urinate in marked worry for the preteen at the table, "Hey Harry, what's wrong? Are you ok?"

"I, erm wha- Stephanie. Hey, sorry. I w-was…" He stumbled for words with confused blinks of the eyes,  
"Hey buddy." She slipped into a chair beside him without a word, worried brown eyes on him all the time as she further noticed his unhinged state, "What's going on? Did you get some bad news?"  
Her voice, soft and empathetic as she nonverbally gestured to the obvious letter in elegant flowing handwriting in his hands, Harry shuddering then shaking his head and plastering on a shaky (yet quickly solidifying smile) onto his face,

"It's fine. I swear." He placed more emphasis into his second sentence at her dubious expression, his smile falling naturally as he spoke again, "It's just that this person said something that surprised me and struck a bit closer to home than I could have expected."

This seemed to do very little to placate Stephanie, so she continued on to inform him that he could talk to her if he wanted to get something off of his chest. Disappearing into the bathroom after Harry's grateful dismissal, her departure spurring Harry to read on with an almost desperate gaze.

 _ **My friends and allies are few, yet in you I hope to find (if not a kindred spirit) then a good soul.**_

 _ **I once again beg your forgiveness for my boldness, but I await our meeting with incredible anticipation. I truly ache to be in your presence, I look forward to seeing you. I write to you in hopes of hopes of establishing a friendship and learning more about a boy beyond the hyperbolic legends of the Daily Prophet and other publications.**_

 _ **In other words, I see that the Boy Who Lived moniker may be a considerable hassle to you and a barrier to seeing your true face and nature, and I hope that (with your permission) I can see the person beyond it and come to know the true and real Harry James Potter.**_

 _ **I hope this letter finds you well and wish you good health and fortune until the day we find each other.**_

 _ **Yours,**_

 _ **HRH: Fourth Princess Francisca Mistel Lescatie x**_

An elaborate flowing signature was printed on the page at the bottom that, combined with her flowing cursive, actually made Harry suddenly and absently self-conscious of his own handwriting.

He didn't know what to make of the letter. That left him even more dumbfounded than when he first opened the letter and read the first through seconds.

He'd never heard of Lescatie, but the letter covered that. He had no idea why a Princess of all people would bother talking to a random, nor did he have a single clue why or what she was talking about considering the two's seemingly inevitable meeting.

' _This seems like a prank.'_ Harry rolled his eyes in a final thought as he refolded the letter he had received and slotted it back into the envelope he had received it within. The faint scent of soft rose perfume that permeated the parchment tugged at his nose almost desperately, returning his attention to the now sheathed letter. Halting him from throwing the letter away, as was his first instinct. Somehow, the emotions that the letter had brought up within him, the fact that this person (whoever they truly were) could actually and accurately capture his feelings at just walking down the street of Diagon Alley or slipping through the corridors of Hogwarts. The true and only real reason that Harry didn't immediately throw it into the bin as he made his way back to the front of the store and instead slotted it back into his schoolbag with his change of clothes as he re-tied his brown apron and slipped his unruly raven mop back into his hairnet and dark cap.

Harry sighed at the queue, a clear prejudice present in the two lines. Adam, furiously scooping scoops of caramel ice cream into a sundae glass with a line of seven impatient men and women stood before his counter, stoically and unflinchingly staring him down as he furiously worked.

Concurrently, Aster smiled awkwardly at the elderly woman she served a banana split and attempted to gain the attention of the other line with a shaking smile at their belligerent refusal to acknowledge her calling them over. Harry scowled with loathing filled eyes as he pushed his glasses up his nose and moved to wash his hands and slip on a pair of gloves,

"Go grab a break Az, I'll take over." Harry softly spoke as he slid up next to the female coworker and relished in her sweet and grateful smile. Her lime, triple spine ears flicking about somewhat in an indication of her relief as her scaly green tail copied. She carefully dropped the scoop in her clawed hands into the cleaning potion and muttered her thanks with soft pink lips and pink cheeks as the Lizardman slipped into the break room and Harry took her place at the register. Already put into a foul mood before any of the vile xenophobic customers could ruin his day with their stupidity,

' _Customer's always right? Please! Nine times out of ten you're all morons.'_

The first to make their way over was a red robed young man, black shaggy hair falling to his shoulders. High cheekbones, solid grey eyes and a strong jawline peppered with a smattering of black stubble. Harry, in the few seconds before he began the transaction, took in the way he held himself as well as his appearance, stood with an effortless confidence that both seemed to invite challenge as well as warn against it. Harry never having felt so simultaneously in awe yet so terrified of another human being in his existence, swallowing and quickly steadying his nerves before speaking,

"Hi there, how can I serve you today?"

He was immediately more amiable towards the new comer for two reasons. The first: he was a literal new comer, not only had Harry never seen him in the shop before but he had entered the building, looked at the line and immediately made a beeline for this part of the counter as he was swapping with Aster. Smiling a patient yet playful smile as he waited the few seconds Harry needed to check that everything was in order for him to take an order.

Second was a little less noble, the man was an Auror. If the white armband on his right forearm with the Ministry 'M' printed on it so brazenly in black was what he thought it was then he was also an Auror Captain. Draped in clearly well-tailored scarlet robes with black cuffs and stylish black buttons and a collar that some oddly runic-esque tattoos were peaking out of from up and down his neck.

"Hey there pup, can you give me just a second while I look at the menu." He spoke with a confident, jovial tone that made Harry smile at the man's clearly vocalized joy for life, "Haven't actually been here since I was at Hogwarts with my mates. One of us was an absoloute genius, made us a Portkey to give us an easy way into the Alley during term time."

"Isn't… Isn't that illegal?" Harry asked quite slowly, taking in the man with a look of utter bewilderment. Especially when his face split with an ear to ear grin and he jabbed at the Captains armband on his shoulder,

"Ironic, right?!"

Harry snorted and chuckled despite himself at that and thus missed the furious storming of a man from Adam's line until he was right behind the Auror he was sharing a laugh with. Getting his laughter under control just before he spoke, the guy relatively round in body and face, facial hair reminiscent to whiskers sprouting from his cheeks and upper lip. The bottom of a hair stomach peeking out from under a two sizes too small sea foam t-shirt that made Harry unwillingly think that the guy could do without whatever he was intending to order,

"Erm, excuse me sir. There is a line. You can't just walk past us all." The man spoke in a slightly nasally tone as he fiddled with the belt of his very tight looking jeans whilst the Auror turned his unimpressed grey gaze away from Harry to look over and down at the shorter man,  
"Well mate, you WERE lined up over there. Waiting for my poor overworked friend over there when a whole other cashier was waiting to take your order." The shaggy haired man drawled out with a lazy sophistication, grey eyes boring into the other man with a harsher gaze than his nonchalant tone and posture was broadcasting, "It isn't my fault your idiot self is completely unable to seize an opportunity when it is clearly staring you in the face."  
"I apologise if it seems slightly unfair, sir." Harry cut in, the dark-haired man and the other speaker turning their gaze to him as he gently inserted himself into the conversation, "But I must agree. My colleague Aster would have more than happily served you, should you have brought your order to her."

Harry smiled sweetly but his eyes seared into the flinching, blustering man behind the now smirking red robed other customer with the intensity of a hurricane. Dissolving away the man's growing protests and excuses like a gaze of acid as he murdered the man with a look, the fellow backing down embarrassedly and returning to Adam's line and a very thin, irate women who coud only be a wife or lover.

"Bahahaha! You destroyed that poor guy. That's customer service for you, murdering bad customers with kindness!" The Auror startled him with the volume of his laugh and words and Harry shook his head,  
"Can I help you, sir." Harry asked with a gentle practiced smile as a few more customers transitioned into a line behind him whilst the whiskered man stubbornly waited for Adam's attentions beside his wide-eyed children and his scowling wife (chewing him out in an aggressive whisper shout that had the man flinching more and more under his wife's anger),

"Hmm, not even going to revel in your victory, huh? I wonder if that's just professionalism or something you just inherited…"

Harry's lips pursed, and his eyebrows softly furrowed at his weird words and searching grey eyes, starting when his inquisitive expression morphed into a sunshine bright, ear to ear grin,

"I'll take three scoops of chocolate with Firewhiskey sauce in a waffle cone, please and thanks." Sirius ordered with a jovial lilt to his words, Harry smiling up at the man before keying in his order into the clacking cash register before rolling up the total and exchanging cash and change with the red robed man,

"Alright, perfect! Here's your receipt." Harry nodded satisfied as he handed over the ink covered parchment to him with a soft smile, "Now can I just quickly get a name, so I know who to shout for when it's ready."

His smile returned to his face, but Harry was surprised to find a tight, tired light in his eyes that Harry could not fathom nor quantify,

"Well, pup." He grinned brightly as he spoke, "Just call for Sirius Black whenever it's done. Take yer time."

Harry smiled gratefully and turned his gaze from him as he called over his next customer; Sirius Black sliding off to the side with his heavy eyes not leaving little Harry Potter with a guilty, curious and suspicious gaze. Wondering what his precious godson was even doing here of all places and why this was the first time he had seen his little pup in over a decade…

{LATER}

With the exception of Gringott's Bank and the Leaky Cauldron (the end and beginning of Diagon Alley) the two opposite ends of the Alley, every shop, restaurant and building closed up shop at six o clock sharp every day. So, when Harry slipped out of Fortescue at seven pm, having done his part to wash up and bid farewell to his coworkers, he would be forgiven for thinking that there was no possible way to find an open Apothecary to fulfill his promise to Ron Weasley. But he hadn't been coming to Diagon Alley for almost two years without learning a thing or two about the largest shopping center in Magical Britain.

And of course, he had. More specifically (and relevantly) the best kept secret of Diagon Alley, that being that Knockturn Alley was not the only off shoot of the big main famous Diagon Alley. It was the location you slipped into if you were searching for products and services of a 'Darker' variety.

Incident Alley was a far less unscrupulous offshoot of the main alley of the area, in the sense that it wasn't a harbourer of dark wizards, witches and their _mostly_ unethical practices. The alleyway giving off an air somewhat Victorian-esque, narrow and dark, the roofs of the parallel buildings nearly touching above Harry's head.

Despite all of this, the glaring differences in size and space aside, the main difference between this alleyway and the one that Harry was walking further and further away from was that orange and/or gold light still seeped out to illuminate the stone cobbled ground from well lit shop windows as they still proudly displayed open signs,

"My, we don't get youths like you in these days." A lisp hammered sentence hit Harry's ears after the ring of a bell signified his entrance to Galiad's Beasts Parts, an apothecary that stood at as a serious competitor to the one in the alley proper. The greeting had come from an elderly man behind the counter of the store, looking over at Harry from the end of a long aisle of jars and flasks filled with parts and pieces beyond simple descriptions, suspended in multi-coloured liquids and goo. A large liver spot consumed the area over his right temple, peeking out from under a white linen bandana over a clearly bald head. He was dressed in plain white robes worn open over a well pressed white shirt (gold thread embroidered over and around the chest pocket and buttons of it) accompanied by equally well dry cleaned black trousers. His toothy grin, as well as showing Harry his very few yellow teeth and empty gums, gave Harry the impression that the man was warm and friendly and quickly putting Harry at ease, though his eyes showed a calculating shrewdness somewhat masked by his jolly demeanour,

"Yes, I'm sorry. I'm coming in with a few weird requests and you're the only trust worthy place I know that is open this late." Harry's tone timid and apologetic as he made his way over, his hand carefully drawing out the replicated list of ingredients he had been tasked with acquiring on his friend's behalf. In spite of Harry's bashfulness, the man visibly brightened with Harr's words, going so far as to let out a little chuckle,

"Not at all lad, sign says open cause I'm looking to sell at a time this late. Don't be feelin bad fer takin advantage." The man grinned and waggled his eyebrows, a quiet snort of a laugh ripped past Harry somewhat unwittingly seeming to further brighten the smile of the shopkeeps face, "I'm guessin that's yer shoppin list?"

"Ah, yes." Harry said, as he moved to hand it over at the mans insistent stare, "It all seems like nonsense to me, but he was very adamant that I get them for him."

"Let's have a look see…" The elder pulling on a pair of circular spectacles that he had delicately resting beside the cash register.

Phenonmenally, despite the eyebrow raising, muttering and over all shakes of the head, there was very little on the list that the man in question did not have on the shelves or in the back room, apparently very used to having to sell these nonsense ingredients for one reason or another. The bandana wearing man animatedly telling this to him as he swept around the room with surprising swiftness all things considered, leaping to reach high shelves and snatching the appropriate jars and vials with a deft hand and a playful flourish that caused Harry to smile on each occasion.

The benefit of Ron's ingredients being the magical equivalent to sawdust, Harry was able to get ten grams of almost everything on the list for dirt cheap. Parting with a bout three Galleons for a bulging carrier bags of fifteen jars full of items and ingredients.

"Thank you so much." Harry smiled as he was lead to the door, Atticus (the store owner had revealed during their transaction) holding the door open and flipping sign round to closed,

"Not at all lad, yer paying me after all." Atticus grinned another toothy/toothless grin, "You have a good night and get home safe."

Harry smiled and acquiesced as he slipped out onto the cobbled street and whipping out the list once again from the bag of his spoils. He smiled down at the majority of its contents being crossed off and then looked down in proud curiosity at the bag itself. Initially, to the marvel that was the bag, he could hear a soft hum of power at the charms he knew were active on the fabric that held the clinking jars, Atticus revealing that it was keeping the bags contents under a charm to suspend them in the same position that they were in when Harry had purchased them. Meaning that they would not go off if they remained inside.

The second came with a dubiety. Harry, again, did not consider himself in anyway an academic or any kind of expert on magical ingredients or alchemy, but he was fairly certain that what he was carrying (judging his opinions quite valid from Atticus's disbelieving expression as he read the list of Ron's that he had handed over) that what he was carrying was a whole lot of nonsense that couldn't possibly make any potion of any kind, let alone the fabled Philosophers stone. Something even Muggles recognized as the pinnacle and the corner stone ( _ **hehehe**_ ) of the practice of alchemy.

But then again, he wasn't an expert. So, operating on the optimistic, hopeful part of his brain that just wanted to believe that his redheaded best friend was right and that in his hands (something incredible the more he allowed himself to think in such a way) were the ingredients of the philosopher's stone itself.

Harry's lips curled up in a smile, today was a good day and he had a good haul. All that was missing from his handful of a menagerie were the dragon ulcers (a queasy expression dominating his and Aticcus's face as he read it and adamantly stated that he did not and had never stocked them) and the odd Each-uisge skin. The latter, apparently, being the only magically powerful ingredient on the list as it belonged to an XXX class beast that had been hunted to near extinction and was thus not available for purchase from most apothecary's in the country. Though that fact had been disconcerting, he held on hope regardless that he could find some way to get a hold of the ingredients for Ron through the only other avenue he had available.

Despite the hope he held, he still scowled hatefully. Asking Ollivander for help made him so furiously angry it hurt, he didn't want anything from the man, besides the money he got from his 'work'. And even that was something he could do without.

His brooding and seething came to an apprehensive halt as a long, humanoid shadow stretched along the grey stone cobbles toward his feet. Harry quickly looking up to find its source and being somewhat baffled at the baffling sight before him,

"To think I would find you in such a cold, dull country." The figure spoke, standing in the illumination of Diagon Alley's lamplight, a silhouette at the entrance to Incident Alley and this in Harry's way. The person was definitively feminine, stood with hands crossed over her chest and looking down the cobbled streets in Harry's direction. Wide hips rolled out under a very short dress and what appeared to be loosely wrapped ribbons or bandages looped around the woman's slim arms and legs, wafting in the sharp cold breeze just as he long straight hair did too.

"Found you, young master." She breathed wantonly, the only prelude and warning he received before those odd bandages on her arms became animated and lunged at him like twin, snow white serpents…

.

* * *

.

"As always, Lucius, you have been excellent company." The round, grey haired portly Minister of Magic gave his farewells in a far more subdued tone than he had given when greeting the platinum blonde lord of the Malfoy family. Lucius Malfoy bowing his head respectfully to the sharply dressed Cornelius Fudge,

"It was my pleasure, Cornelius." Lucius's mouth curled into a warm, grateful and even somewhat reverent smile, "Though, I apologise that I had to stain such a lovely meeting with such dark information."  
"No, Lucius, I am eternally grateful for bringing this knowledge to my attention. Although I had heard some whispers of what was going on at Hogwarts I was entirely unaware as to what truly occurred." Cornelius's eyebrows knitted together in concern and deep thought, "I can now investigate and find some appropriate course of action."  
"That is most comforting to hear Cornelius." Lucius sighed out in incredible relief, a hand hovering over his heart as Cornelius's smile bloomed upon his face once again as relief rolled off Lucius like an aura, "To know that you are the Minister, a man ready to take action even in the face of such a trying situation is exactly the reason I and the public place our faith so wholeheartedly into you."

Fudge ballooned in pride at Lucius's earnest words, puffing up with a smile until the pale hand of the Head of the Malfoy family settled onto his shoulder. Lucius's smile was replaced by a serious, imploring gaze that bored into the leader of Magical Britain with its emotive intensity,

"I am sorry to place this much pressure upon you, but as a parent I must state that I am relying on you, Minister." Lucius's voice was lower, more serious than the amiable tone of the previous few sentences, "The life of my son, and the children of so many others, rests on the actions you take now. Time and patience may not be a luxury we all can entertain at this time."

Cornelius's face morphed into one of surprise at the harsh severity of his long-time friend and backer's words. The heavy emotion behind his eyes froze him solid in the face of it, seeing not just his long-time advisor and support but the desperate visage of a worried father. A visage he could only mutely nod in the face of, receiving a weak smile and a pat on the shoulder,

"You are a good man, Cornelius Fudge." Lucius almost croaked in his gratitude, "Thank you."

Lucius filed out of the Minister's office, marching away with a smile and a goodbye over his shoulder at the somewhat shaken yet undeniably determined owner and occupant of said office. Cornelius only allowing himself to slump in his seat after the door had closed behind his guest and he was alone again.

A swish of his wand and whispered incantation saw the tea set the two men had enjoyed quickly packed away into a glass cabinet backed up against the westernmost wall off to the side. Fudge sighing as his elbows were planted onto the desk in front of him and he unleashed a heavy tired sigh of his own in the wake of this new information.

He'd obviously heard of the string of Petrifications that had plagued a handful of Hogwarts students this past term but had declined from seeking further details or expending Ministry resources to it in the wake of the schools Headmaster's assurance that the children were safe, and things were in hand. Even to this day, Cornelius almost embarrassedly admitted, Dumbledore had a way of making everything seem alright, even the bleakest of scenarios. So, suffice to say, when his former Professor and the universally slated ' _ **Next Coming of Merlin**_ ' himself told him that everything was ok, he simply lay back and accepted that to be a reality,

" _I understand your concerns, Cornelius, and I commend you for your diligent work and desire to keep the children safe." Dumbledore had spoken in that soft, grandfatherly tone that was clearly designed to placate all who heard it as well as make them feel silly for doubting the great Albus Dumbledore and his brilliance, "But I can assure you, as headmaster I will never allow any harm to befall my students. Nor would I allow anything to exist on these school grounds that I could not deal with myself and keep my students safe from."_

Cornelius remembered that conversation well, a chat with the illustrious headmaster of the school in a time when a Gryffindor first year had been placed into the hospital wing awaiting the Mandrake Potion. Children were writing home to their parents about a petrified cat and writings on the wall in blood. No details, no threat, he had been (in the politest way such an action could be received) palmed off by Dumbledore and all but told to 'remember his place' and to 'not interfere'.

But all this business had still felt off, and Lucius's presence that day only confirmed the worst of his suspicions. Heir of Slytherin, a reopened Chamber of Secrets, half a dozen students Petrified in the school's hospital wing as an unknown, unspeakable horror allegedly left behind by the Dark Founder of Hogwarts himself stalked the halls of the school assaulting enemies of this so-called Heir and left them in such a state…

It was nightmarish!

To add a further layer of incredulity to this scenario the greatest suspect to the crime, a blatant Parselmouth coming and going from the castle as he pleased, not only walked free unaccosted but had not even been questioned or monitored at all! Not only that, but (through his own previous investigations through the archives of the Auror department) one Rubeus Hagrid

Cornelius's body shivered as he was subjected to a vicious cold sweat. The latter was a far easier case to run with, though Hagrid was a clear favourite of Dumbledore he did not hold the same public sway and public sympathy as the former, Harry James Potter.

Lucius's words banged through his head again even as he had his doubts. No question, many parents were worried, possibly terrified, at what they were hearing from the school and Dumbledore seemed to be doing little to nothing to either placate the public or even solve the issue. This would be the perfect time to swoop in, to show them all that he was a man of action worthy of his position and capable of dealing with the strife that plagued the nation.

But that would mean moving against the nations favourite golden child, the Boy Who Lived. A single misstep, false move and his administration could fall out under his feet. Taking the half-giant in for questioning and none would bat an eye, but even revealing that the child that defeated Voldemort shared the Dark Lords ability for Parseltongue would likely not be enough to convince the majority that he was doing the right thing.

A sharp buzzer tore him from his inner monologue with a sharp start.

"E-Enter." The Minister called with as much authority as he could inject in to his voice on such a short notice, the door clicking open and a very familiar woman entering. Late forties with her glorious mane of straight red hair already streaked with lines of silver from age, stress and worry. Firm wrinkles around her mouth from decades of frowns and other grave expressions, sharp brown eyes that pierced the soul (even from behind her now signature gold monocle over the left) and raven and crimson robes worn gracefully over her form, "Ah, Amelia. What brings you in?"

Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and one of the most powerful women in the country nodded her head in some semblance of greeting and deference before

"We have a rather troubling situation in Incident Alley."  
"So serious that you would come yourself?" Fudge questioned warily, not doubting the monster of a witch before him for a moment but more worried at the implications. Her firm nod causing him to swallow harshly,

"A XXXXX magical signature was registered entering Diagon Alley less than ten minutes ago, preliminary reports marking its similarities to the one discovered in the Sahara." Madam Bones spoked clearly and gravely, seemingly ignoring the pallor that was Cornelius's face as she continued, "She was reported to follow an unknown into Incident Alley and another XXXXX signature appeared there afterwards."

Cornelius may have had something to say prior, but her second addition made his desperate interruption die in his throat,

"Whu- What?!"

"I only came to inform you that the situation is in hand and you will be informed as to when the situation changes." Amelia swiftly turned on her heels and made for the door with a clearly dismissive wave, "Black and Shacklebolt's squads are already on scene, so I believe the situation to be in good enough hands until myself and the Hit squads make our way there."

"Wa-Wait, Amelia. You can't-" His words died in his throat again. Not because he was too surprised to speak (as he was before) instead he was frozen solid under the frosty glare the Head of the DMLE dared to throw his way,

"I will be personally making my way to Diagon Alley. I will inform you of what transpires."

Her tone was sharp, slicing like a knife through the air almost as sharp as the door snapping shut behind her as she left. Leaving the Minister of Magic, the one who sat as the leader of the country, quaking in his seat in the face of just one of his many subordinates. His many plans and machinations put on halt as he worked on calming the heart hammering in his chest.

.

* * *

.

An electrified atmosphere of aggression filled the second floor, girl's bathroom of Hogwarts school as a Gryffindor and a Slytherin second year stared down the ghost that haunted that room.

"Myrtle, you need to tell us who it is!" Hermione's desperate plea bordering on an angry order in her passion and intensity,

"I don't know her name. And she never comes in here in proper robes, so I don't know what house she is in." Myrtle held up her hands in a placating gesture at her friends impassioned insistence, "Even if I wanted to tell you, I don't know her name."

"You've got to be able to tell us something." Hermione's voice laced with heavy desperation as she begged for answers, missing Delphi's eyes sharply narrow,

"What do you mean by, ' _even if I wanted to_?'" She snapped, violet eyes not leaving the ghost girl who shrunk back somewhat under her angry gaze before she straightened up and a small smirk lifted a corner of her lips, "The hell is so funny, Myrtle? Answer me, what do you mean?"

"My, my, Delphini, you're not being very nice now, are you?" her snarky reply,  
"Me and my best friend are half-bloods, my other best friend is a muggle-born and… Weasley is a blood traitor. We're all enemies of the heir." Delphi explained with a piercing, unimpressed glare that did little to defeat the smirk on Myrtle's face, "So forgive me if I'm a bit impatient. But you have answers that could save our lives."

"That I could, but mommy told me something back in the day that has stuck with me for life…"  
"Which is?" Hermione slowly asked, her patience failing her as Delphi's already had, tone a lot colder than she had ever allowed it to be,  
"Never do anything for free." She grinned, a smile that fit better on the face of Lucifer, devious and malevolent. Neither of them could supress the icy shudder that ghosted up and down their spines.

Steadying breaths and gulps met her insidious expression and Delphi was able to choke out a response after a time with the most minute of stutters,

"W-What is it you want then?" Delphi asked, shuddering quietly as the ghost girl's expression became all the more… monstrous…

"Oh, you Slytherin's and your deals!"

Silence speared through the bathroom as Moaning Myrtle cupped her pale chin in an equally light hand as she made a dramatic hum. The two living ladies quickly losing their cool and seconds away from vocalising their growing rage before Myrtle dropped the thoughtful façade with another devious smirk,

"It's simple, I'm going to meet with a Princess in a little while and go through a procedure…"  
"What kind of 'procedure?'" Hermione questioned slowly, angry yet calculated gaze not leaving her face,

"It's called Monsterisation, courtesy of one of mine and your friends mutual acquaintances. She was kind enough to get in touch not so long ago and gave me the chance to fill up my boring days with some fun." Myrtle giggled out her words before she let out a mock, mournful sigh and spoke again, "The life of a ghostly adolescent is so boring, all those things I never got to do and I thought I never shall…"

"Myrtle, we don't have time for this. People are in danger, what do you want?" Delphi snapped, holding Myrtle's gaze venomously, rage meeting rage before mischief made its way back onto Myrtle's face. The two living girls watching the dead one's cheeks burn in blush again, her gaze darkening before their eyes and her lips parted in a shuddering sigh of desire,

Her expression and demeanour coming across as increasingly… lewd…

"Real simple, my friends. I just want an evening alone with Harry James Potter." She replied with a low, breathy, husky tone, licking her lips as Harry's friends flushed despite themselves, "Give me Harry, all alone to myself for an evening of my choosing, and I'll tell you all you need to know about the Heir of Slytherin and their little pet that murdered me…"

.

* * *

.  
 **Dun Dun Dun!**

 **I was trying for a more show-don't tell approach for this chapter (which I'm trying of implement in all of my writing). It's one of my biggest gripes in my own writing and why I find it so intolerable to read through in editing and re-reading. Any opinions, suggestions and feedback is more than welcome. To be frank, I use Fanfiction to 1. Practice and improve my own writing whilst also (2.) playing around with dumb ideas in my head. Thank you for all of your support and readership thus far, I genuinely appreciate it and hope to keep pleasing you guys in the future.**

 **See you in Chapter 17 and beyond x**


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